#'this will be a short post. this won't get that long‚' i said‚ lying through my teeth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

manicrouge · 10 months ago

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SIN CITY

[𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 09/02/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Rorke finds the Ghost's and you fear you're never going to see Keegan again.

[𝙲𝚠]: Major character death, violence, gore, graphic injury, hurt/ comfort, reader goes THROUGH IT, idk if there's anything else.

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 7k (exactly btw)

[𝙰/𝙽]: This has literally been in my drafts since Decemeber and I wrote way too much of it to not do anything with it so = I hope this is enough to suffice. Also, this is entirely based off of the mission 'Sin City' in call of duty ghosts, so if you haven't seen or played the game and don't want spoilers then please skip this !! (I would be surprised if you've not seen this yet you're in the Keegan tag.)

Also, if people do enjoy this I am down to write a part two so please let me know :3

ENJOY !!

There may be typos, apologies!!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

‘If I ever went missing, would you go and look for me?'

It was silent for a moment, and after five seconds passed, you turned to look at the man lying beside you. As you observed his features, you realised that his eyes were closed and while you doubted someone’s ability to dose off so quickly, you sure as shit didn’t doubt Keegan’s. His hand on your waist gave him away as it tightened on you, pulling you closer to him.

Opening his eyes, he peered at you with a furrowed brow. ‘The fuck kinda question is that, princess?’ He asked, ‘of course I would. Besides, need you with me,’ he said, ‘who else would I have to watch my back? Didn’t spend all that time training you for you to disappear on me, did I?’

Smug bastard.

'You're full of yourself,' you bit back.

'Good reason to be,' he said, brushing a hand through his black hair, moving his fringe away from his eyebrows, 'I'll consider being humble when I lose you, princess. But that hasn't happened and it won't be happening on my watch, not at all,' he reassured, pulling you closer to him.

You slapped his chest, letting out a heavy sigh, resting your head against his chest. In the dead of the night and the silence in your room, you listen to the thud of his beating heart while held up on a tiny bed. You were practically on top of him, legs intertwined.

There wasn't anywhere to go, however, and he didn't seem to care about you closeness at that moment. Rather, he settled with the heat of your body much better than he would have settled in a bed with more space.

'You think this'll ever be over?' you mumbled, closing your eyes, 'I'd like to sleep in a bigger bed with you; this ones a little cramped. Maybe even watch something on a TV too.’

'You're free to take the floor if you want to, I'm not stopping you,' he grunted, pinching your waist.

'I'm gonna blow your brains out,' you sleepily mumbled, placing your hand over his. His chest twitches as he lets out a short laugh, folding his arm behind your head so he can brush his fingers through your hair. 'I mean it,' you grumbled.'

'Of course you do, princess,' he said, 'of course you do.'

—

Throughout your training as a Ghost, you gained an understanding that things will never ever be as easy as you wish they were. But, it came with the job, you suppose, whether it was spoken or not.

Feelings as such only ever drift in when you don’t have a distraction, and the absence of Keegan after Elias sent him to Colorado Springs proved to be bruising.

Admittedly, you had been apprehensive with Elias’ request, although, in private, you digressed as you noted that Elias is your Captain, and you were to never question your captains judgement. Even when it came to someone that you loved. So, you bit your tongue, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to relax.

But, you have some things you needed to do before you got any sleep, or before you thought about anything else other than Rorke and the Federation.

‘JSOC’s going to want to move fast on this, so load up before you get any shut eye,’ he advises.

You follow behind him, standing beside Logan as he walked with Hesh and Merrick by his side. Fortunately, the brunt of the experience has been dealt with, you had survived Keegan’s absence overnight, and in a matter of hours, he would be back by your side. Inwardly, you’re embarrassed at your clinginess to him, but deep down you know he enjoys it.

‘We’ve got six hours until Keegan gets back,’ Elias says.

Upon the mention of his name, Riley brushes his head against your leg, and you look down at the German Shepherd, rolling your eyes. Leaning down slightly, you scratch his head. ‘Shut up,’ you grumble to the pup when he looks up at you, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. When you pull your hand away, he licks it, staring back at you. With a huff, you fold to his attempt of cuteness, moving your hand to the his head again.

‘Hold up,’ Merrick says abruptly.

An arm grabs your forearm suddenly, and you let out a startled breath, though when you look in front of you, you realise you’d almost walked right into Hesh. Exhaling, you turn your head to Logan who gives you a short nod.

‘Somethin’ feel off to you?’ Merrick asks, turning to Elias.

The man immediately turns to his right, observing a laptop left perched on a desk. He says little for a moment, and when you turn your head away from your Captain, you acknowledge Merrick’s watchful eye as he peers down the scope of his gun, observing the sights through the broad windows located to the left of you.

‘Security’s working,’ says the man to the right of you.

Merrick slowly backs away, keeping his eyes trained o the window. You feel your throat tighten as you keep your eyes on the man, his paranoia working well to leave a heavy feeling in your chest. Logan lets go of your arm as he glances at his brother, a look that you don’t miss, and Merrick looks at you. You open your mouth to speak, holding the gun in your hands close to your chest, snapping your head to Riley as the dog begins to bark, glaring directly through he window that Merrick had just kept his eyes trained on.

While he may be a dog, he is surely not an idiot- in fact, you’re quite sure that Riley is much smarter than many of the people you had encountered when you had been a simple rookie, before Elias had taken you under his wing. He could certainly kill more people, that’s for sure.

It all seems to happen in slow motion, and the night you had spent prior seems to dissipate in one moment. There’s this hissing, you hear it from below, and before you have time to contemplate what exactly it is, a black can is thrown over the balcony, a train of green smoke pouring from out of the top of it.

‘Fuck,’ you curse, ‘get out!’ you yell, watching as another two cans containing the same foul smelling gas are tossed over the balcony, hitting the ground with a clink.

As you begin to sprint, you find the air around you is similar to the air you breathed whenever you were spending time with Keegan on his smoke break. All oxygen left your lungs as you broke into a sprint, your eyes water, and before you know it, you falling down to the ground, gasping for air as you feel your eyes grow heavy.

In the midst of the panic and over the thumping of your heart in your chest, you hear Elias call out, ‘Riley, hide!’ before breaking out into a fit of coughs.

You wretch, clawing at the ground in some form of futile attempt to escape, but nothing works as you watch Logan collapse right before you, spewing out violent coughs. Never have you felt so defenceless, so weak as you succumb to the gas, the world around you growing blurry before fading into complete darkness.

—

‘What are you doing up, kid?’ Keegan asks, seeing you appear beside him.

Letting out a small yawn, your boots crunch against a few stray rocks as you approach him, taking a seat against the rock he was leaning on, looking out at the remnants of No Mans Land. Logan and Hesh had regarded it as their home, as did their father, though, you couldn’t really picture the place without the addition of a crater which grew every day, claiming the lives of old rickety buildings and unsuspecting wildlife.

It was a sorry sight to see for sure, and inwardly, you were happy you never had the misfortune of seeing your own home falling to pieces.

‘You need sleep,’ he said, taking a drag from the cigarette between his lips.

Your eyebrows raise as you look at him, crossing your arms over yourself. ‘I thought you said you didn’t smoke,’ you say, 'you're a liar.'

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes at your comment, and when he pulls it from his lips, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke, he chuckles. ‘Thought I told you not to hang onto every little thing I tell you, princess,’ he stated, ‘seems like we’re both guilty of doing something we’re not supposed to, hm?’

Placing the cigarette between his lips again, he turns his attention to you, noting that you’d crinkled your nose as the smoke he’d exhaled blew back into your face. ‘You can handle the fuckin’ dust in the battlefield, but the moment you smell a cigarette you fold?’ he mocks, laughing.

Your brow furrows at his comment and you fought of the urge to rip the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you allowed him to have his silly little cancer stick knowing that, if you did so something so cruel, he was sure to be upset at you, no matter how close the pair of you were. Cigarettes were difficult to come by and you liked him enough to let him have one in peace.

—

When the world fades in, you’re moving.

You don’t know how, and for a short second, you’re convinced you’ve died. But, when you take a sharp breath and feel your lungs burning, you’re crudely brought back to life. When you look ahead of you, you witness two soldiers trailing behind you. Keeping your head bowed, you wince at the dizziness wrecking your tired mind, attempting to hold your breath in fear of the due ache in your lungs.

Swallowing, your mouth is dry and you feel the urge to vomit as your head keeps swaying from side to side. Your limbs feel like jelly, fluid. You can hear them talking, although, everything seems miles away from you, and you feel your eyes water as the tightness in your chest grows. If they know you’re here, do they know where Keegan is? The thought sends a chill down your spine, and in your delirious state, you declare that you will kill anyone who even dared to touch even a hair on his head. Even if it meant your death too.

‘That all you got you piece of shit?!’

It’s Merrick, you recognise his tone from anywhere, it nearly shatters your delirious state entirely, though, the grip on the back of your collar tightens as your pulled away from him.

There’s more shouting and a loud smack, Merrick, you imagine, is on the receiving end of such a hit. A Ghost in true fashion, that’s for sure. As you attempt to lift your head again, you find the world growing dark once more, and, while you feel as though you should fight against it just as you had seen him do, you allow yourself to fall back into the abyss as you feel your lung burning and throat swelling.

—

There’s a screeching when you come back around, a vile ringing in your ears. ‘Well, I guess if you want something done right, do it yourself.’

Your blood runs cold.

As you slowly begins to lift your head, a hand grabs your face, forcing your head up. The light protruding from the window to the left of you is nearly bruising, and when the hand holding your face successfully tilts your head up, your eyes meet with Rorkes. He looks down at you with a wrinkled smirk, his hold tightening on your hair, yanking it harder. You wince at the pressure as he keeps his eyes on you.

‘You’re finally awake,’ he acknowledges, pushing your head down, letting go of your hair. ‘Good.’

He walks away from you, and as you look around, you note that Hesh is sitting directly across from you, Logan is to the right of you, and Elias is to your left.

As you continue to look around, your face pales at the disappearance of Merrick, and while you sit, you recall the faint memory in your banging head of the man being surrounded by Federation soldiers.

He’s smart, you think, you could leave that bastard in a forest with a knife and he’d have his own fuckin’ city in a month. He’s fine.

‘Nice to have the family back together, isn’t it?’ Rorke asks, looking to Elias. The man shows no fear, looking the devil right in the eyes with a stoic expression on his face. ‘One thing, though,’ he says, ‘we’re just missin’ our quiet friend, aren’t we?’ he says.

Your heart calms at such a statement.

He doesn’t have him, he’s fine, he’s safe.

You expect him to keep his eyes trained on Elias, counting on the fact that he is the Captain, but, he turns his head over his shoulder and looks at you. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turns his back to Elias, placing his hands down on his knees, ‘where’s Keegan?’

Looking him in the eyes, you spite your dry throat as the muscles in your neck contort and you muster up a mouthful of phlegm. He keeps his eyes trained on you, and you lung forward, a spray of mucus and saliva coating his face. ‘Fuck you,’ you heave, ‘I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing,’ you sharply state.

He looks at you with wide eyes, standing up and wiping his face with the palm of his hand.

‘Damn bitch has got some fight in her, doesn't she?’ he laughs, turning to Elias, ‘not your daughter by blood, but by attitude… fuck me, Elias, you’ve got yourself a mini me!’ he exclaims. You bite your lip, taking a deep breath as you look at your Captain with bleary eyes. Grabbing the back of the man’s chair, he pulls it to him. Elias’ gaze doesn’t leave his. ‘Where is he?’ he slowly questions.

There’s a moment of silence.

‘You know I’m not telling you a damn thing,’ he spits, baring his teeth in his direction.

Never have you seen the man so agitated, his bruised face flushed red, his split lip oozing with blood, a thin line of it trailing down his chin. He looks like a savage beast as the sunlight behind him renders his features darker than typical, and the curve of his lips when he addresses Rorke even sends a shiver up your spine.

Of course, a Ghost was loyal to his own until death, and even then, they were buried down to watch over them. Once a Ghost, always a Ghost. Elias proved his worth much more than Rorke ever could, and while you wondered what exactly they had done to break the man who Elias had described as ‘one hell of a Ghost,’ but one thing was for certain. A man who broke was not a Ghost. Never was, and never would be.

’Go fuck yourself,’ Elias hisses.

Rorke laughs, nodding his head, letting go of the back of his chair. It lands with a clatter, and you watch as the man continues to nod to himself.

‘Dangerous fuckin’ game you’re playing,’ he states, and you watch as his right hand moves from the front of him, trailing around to the side where his pistol sat in his holster.

He’s gonna shoot Elias. Your eyes grow wide as you watch the man retrieve his weapon. Your muscles tensing as he holds it out in front of him. It’s aimed right at his chest, overing above his heart. ‘Well, let's see if I can change your mind,’ he exhales.

BANG.

In a moment, his hand whips around, and when the trigger is pulled, all the air in your lungs exudes like puss from a pimple.

The shot causes your ears to ring. It’s loud, and everything is fuzzy. For a moment, you look up in search of the wound, hoping that the bullet had not went through your Captains skull. Only, when you look in his direction, you see the smoking pistol pointed directly at you. Your eyes grow wide, and you let out a short breath.

You heard the gun go off, the bullet had to be somewhere. And then, you felt a wetness pooling against your thighs. Everything seemed to move slowly when you raised your head up, looking across to Hesh with wide eyes.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die and Keegan isn’t here with me.

As you manage to get a short breath in, agony hits you like a truck and you lean over without a second thought.

I’m going to die.

All you training, everything, how to stop the bleeding, none of it matters; you’re truly at the disposal of the enemy and there’s nothing you can do. Not even you Captain can do anything.

‘NO!’ Elias screams, dragging you back into the moment.

Between the thudding beats of your heart, you hear Hesh screaming out bloody murder, thrashing against the ropes that keep him tied to the chair, ‘Son of a bitch!’ he screams, looking directly at Rorke, ‘I’m going to kill you! You hear me? I’m going to fucking kill you!'

A shaky breath leaves you as your eyes well with tears, and when you look down, you gulp hard at the sight of a wound oozing blood. Your throat tightens as you feel your entire body grow hot.

‘Easy junior,’ Rorke warns with a disapproving tone. You keep your head bowed as his shadow looms over you, ‘I ain’t even started with you yet,’ he chuckles.

Keegan, where’s Keegan- I’m going to die.

Your eyes sting as your trembling hands press against the rope, pulling against them. You need to get out of there otherwise you are going to die.

Elias calls your name, you hear it, he shouts it, yet, it seems so quiet.

'Look at me!’ he demands, and while everything in you is telling you to keep your eyes trained on the wound, you force your head up, sniffing hard as you look your Captain in the eyes. At the very least, even if Keegan isn’t there with you, you have him.

Elias, you captain, your military father. There have been plenty of jokes made during particularly bleak moments in missions where Hesh and Logan have likened you to their sister. It's an honour, truly, to know that they were your brothers no matter relation, and Elias entertained the idea that you were the daughter he had never had.

Rorke appears behind him and it’s then that you don’t realise how many seconds are passing. Every single second feels like an hour, and you’re more than aware that every second passing is yet another drop of wasted blood. You’re running on borrowed fucking time, and there’s Rorke, the big fucking man he is, parading around in front of you like he’s a jester. ‘That’s right,’ he chuckles, placing his hand on Elias shoulder, ‘that’s it,’ he sighs, ‘show him how much pain he’s causing you right now.’

‘Keegan will kill you,’ you rasp out, stifling a short whimper as you clench your teeth. ‘And if he doesn’t, then I will.’

You’re more than aware of the situation your in and your pessimism seems to waver with your consciousness as a sudden boost of adrenaline fills you with defiance. If you’re going to die, you might as well run your tongue; the worst thing that can happen in this moment is him simply putting you out of your misery.

Rorke laughs at your threats, ‘you see,’ he begins, ‘funny think about your old Captain here,’ he stops himself for a moment, shoving Elias as he resumes his position, looking you in the eyes, ‘He lets his men die to save his own ass,’ he states, turning his attention away from you, turning his attention back to the Captain.

Exhaling shakily, you look over to Hesh and Logan who return a look equally as frightened. Never have you seen the pair of them appear so apprehensive, although, you definitely don’t miss the look of anger. No, even though the look isn’t intended for you, you feel a chill run up your spine.

‘Dammit, Rorke,’ Elias yells, ‘this is between you and me!’

The world seems like its on a merry-go-round, twisting and turning leaving a delightful fuzziness in your head. Adrenaline is pupping through you, and you’re thankful for the emotion, for, if you didn’t have it, you very well would have been out like a light. Your hands continue to pull against the ties of your rope, and while your wrists are burning from the constant pulling and tugging, you breath a short sigh of relief when you feel them loosening. Whoever tied it clearly weren’t trained in the art of kidnapping.

‘Leave my kids out of it!’ Elias demands.

You feel your heart warm at his sentiment, giving you all the more fight to get out of these damn binds. Works gun is right next to him, you can get it, you can reach for it, and you can blow that fuckers brains out.

‘You’re talking to a superior Lieutenant,’ Rorke says, pacing back and forward, before finding his way right back to Elias. Looking down at the man, he calmly speaks, ‘show some discipline.’

You feel your face grow warm listening to their exchange.

‘You were never one of us, you’re not a Ghost,’ Elias cruelly says, turning his face away from Rorke, looking down to the ground. Rorke hums, turning his attention back towards you.

The ties are growing looser, they’re getting there, you can almost get your hand out of them, yet, you maintain poker face as you look up at Rorke.

‘Well,’ Rorke breathes, ‘that’s just cause I’m better than you!’ he exclaims, keeping his eyes trained on you. You watch as they narrow, it’s a subtle one, one that you had noted during parring matches with rookies.

As Keegan had taught you, when soldiers get lazy, they give themselves away and it’s always in the eyes.

Your eyes dart to his hands, seeing him clench his fists as he snaps his body around, driving his fist into Elias’ face. The man falls to the side with a grunt as Rorke takes a short breath before raising his other fist, ‘I’ve always been better than you!’ he seethes, punching that man again. Elias tilts his head back against the chair, and you watch as both Logan and Hesh begin to fight much harder against their restraints. Either way, someone was getting out and Rorke was going to pay. ‘But you… you call yourself a Ghost?!’ he barks, hating Elias again.

As he looks down on Elias, you pull a hand free from the ties. Keeping your eyes trained on Rorke, you look down at his gun, gritting your teeth. ‘You’re nothing! You and your kids, you’re dead!’ he declares.

Wrong move.

With his proud declaration, you push yourself up from out of the chair, snatching his pistol from out of the holster on his thigh. Such, unfortunately, doesn’t go unnoticed by Rorke as he whips around, grabbing your arms, forcing the pistol up. You place your hands against his, using all the strength you can muster to pull the gun away from him.

Nothing moves him, however.

But he’s a monster, he likes to play with his food.

He’s not using all his strength, he’s taking it easy on you, and you’re still losing. As he does so, he laughs in your ear. ‘Oh,’ he gasps, ‘she’s still got a little life in her,’ he laughs aloud, positioning the gun so your pointing it directly at Elias. ‘Didn’t he ever tell you not to aim guns at people?’ You grunt, driving your foot against his boot, feeling his grip falter for a moment. You attempt to move the gun upwards, your finger pressed against the trigger. Everything burns. Everything hurts. But you’re not going to stop, you’re going to kill this bastard even if it kills you.

Unfortunately he’s a scummy man, and as punishment for you stomping on his foot, he drives an elbow into your stomach, winding you.

Your hold falters- you almost fall to the floor- but he keeps you up on your feet, and through gritted teeth declares, ‘they could go off!’ His finger jams against your pressed against the trigger, a loud shot ringing in your ears. You watch a Elias throws his head to the side as a bullet drives through his chest. You fight against him harder, shaking your head. ‘That’s is!’ He grunts, ‘just a little more that way,’ he instructs you, forcing your hand further to the right. You actively pull away as the both of you fight against each other. Tears are running down your faces at that moment, every pull and tug driving the bullet in your stomach further and further.

‘Dammit, Rorke, STOP!’ Hesh begs.

‘Point it… at…’ another shot is fired, and Elias takes it with a grunt, 'your Captain.’

As though taking candy from a baby, he lets go of your hands, plucking it out of your sweaty grasp. Gunpowder invades your nostrils as he lets you go. Rookie mistake, you hear it in your head, but it isn't your voice. It's Keegan's.

You wobble on your feet, staggering backwards as your get your bearings. What you need to do is untie Logan who is right behind you, and then when he's distracted you can get to Hesh. Yet, as you step back and begin to move towards Logan, Rorke whips around to face you again driving the butt of the pistol into your face. It hits you with a crude thwack, a stoke of colour meeting your gaze as you fail to catch yourself, tumbling to the ground.

Logan screams out as you fall to the ground, and you tense as you brace for impact. You land with a thud, a broken cry escaping your lips when you feel the bullet lodge in your stomach dig further in.

The pain leaves you gasping an you clench your teeth as the room spins. Nausea spread through you as you lay there attempting to collect yourself, gulping back the urge to vomit. Resting your palm against the ground, you begin to attempt to pick yourself up. If you can just make it to Logan, you can make everything right.

Keeping your eyes trained on Elias, you watch as Rorke circles him as a shark did its pray. Both Hesh and Logan are calling you for you, the rattle of their chair thumping causing your ears to ring. Licking your dry lips, you tense when Rorke turns back to you, pointing the pistol in his hand directly at your head.

‘You got fire in you, kid,’ he breathlessly confesses, ‘I like that… risking your life to protect your Captain,’ he chuckles, leaning into Elias, pressing his finger against his chest. ‘You could learn something from her, Elias.’

‘She’s my daughter,’ he croaks.

‘Yeah,’ Rorke nods, glancing at you, ‘and she’s gonna get to watch you die. Her and your boys.'

Shot after shot is fired, every bang against you to witness as you grab your stomach, pressing down against the wound to keep yourself from losing more blood than necessary. You’re far too dazed to get up and fight against the man who saw the very life of your Captain as some sort of joke. So, you watch, helpless, as Rorke empties a clip into Elias.

‘No! No! Dad!’ Hesh cries. His face is red as he frashes against the ties keeping him from his father, the very sight making your headache. His tone is piercing as he carelessly spits out curses at the man before him. ‘I’ll kill you, you hear me?’ he screams, ‘I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you! Motherfucker!’

The worlds a little blurry.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and when you force the open upon hearing a thud right in front of you, you’re surprised to see Elias’ face meters away from yours. You fight against the urge to drift off. You’re not going to die, you’re getting out of this and you’re seeing Keegan again- you can't die.

‘You did well,’ Elias breathes, looking at you. Your blood runs cold at the sight of blood seeping onto the ground, ‘I’m proud of you, you and my boys,’ he utters, wheezing for a single breath of air. His lips are blue as he stares at you, your eyes welling with tears as you're forced to watch as the man struggles for his last breaths.

Rorke’s boot is planted firmly on top of his head, and you catch your Captain glancing up at the man.

For the very first time, you see fear in his eyes. It's a dastardly look, mixing with the loss of blood in an unappealing manner as his face grows sickeningly pale. Something tells you that Elias Walker is scared of dying.

No Ghost is to be scared of death, that's not who we are.

But, we're scared of losing each other.

Elias Walker is scared of losing his family, of leaving them behind.

Rorke sighs, pushing his boot further down, leaning down to press the muzzle of the pistol against his forehead.

Keegan, please.

‘Oh… you are right, Elias,’ breathes the man, ‘I’m not a Ghost,’ he grins. There's a pause in his words, and you find yourself searching for some form of sickly hope that just in the nick of time, there will be a bullet in Rorke's head rather than Elias'.

Rorke remains tall and as he licks his thin lips and eyes Elias, you find a dismal pit in your stomach that you know you're never going to recover from.

‘I’m the man that hunts them, and sends them back to the other side.’

With that, he pulls the trigger.

You scrunch your eyes shut as you hear the rattle of the man's chest, a wet pray covering your face. Your lips form into a thin line as you choke out a broken sob, and when you bring your lips together again, the metallic taste of your Captains blood. Behind you, you can hear both Logan and Hesh sobbing, the anger the pair of the showed silently dissipated into grief.

The rustle of fabric in front of you unnerves you, and you attempt to turn away from Elias' corpse, letting out a startled breath when a shadow looms over you and you're grabbed.

'Leave her alone,' begs Logan, 'you got what you wanted. Leave her be... please.'

Rorke holds you in his arms like a child would a doll, and to your surprise, he guides you back into the chair you had jumped out from, forcing you back into it.

Standing back from the three of you, he rubs his mouth with his hand, his lips curling into a small grin as he hums to himself. 'Some talent is between you kids,' he says, 'real shame you're fighting the wrong side of this war, really, it is.'

—

Much to your pleasure, you find Merrick alive.

Despite your doubts prior, you knew well the man was capable of surviving. After the execution of Elias, Rorke left you with his soldiers and you, Hesh, Logan and Merrick were all forced onto your knees, kneeling on the balcony where the attack had first initially ensued. You’re unsure as to how much time had passed, but you were sure the wound was not getting any better as every time you shifted, you fell light headed.

The soldiers that had been observing you receive something on the radio, although, your entire body is hot and your ears are ringing, the memory of Elias’ face stuck in your head as you were forced to witness his death close and personal. You’re quite sure there is residue on of the crime on your face, so, you keep your head bowed, out of the way of both Logan and Hesh who look completely broken.

‘You alright?’ Logan whispers.

You’re shaking, but you nod your head.

‘Just Peachy, L, don’t worry about it,’ you utter, keeping your head down.

A shadow is cast over you and you catch sight of the boots of three soldiers.

‘The boss wants the girl alive,’ says one of them, causing you to snap your head upwards, looking at the three of them.

The one in the middle is pointing at you, marking you out of the crowd while the other two simply observe.

You feel dirty.

The man beside him nods his head, grabbing his pistol from his holster, aiming it at Hesh, while the other one approaches Logan, repeating the process.

It’s terribly calculated, killing both of the brothers, clearing the world of Elias once and for all at the same time. You keep your eyes trained on Hesh, eyes occasionally drifting to the window as you sit and wait. Planting the pistol firmly against Hesh’s head, you hear Logan grunt beside you. Hesh moves to the side, his forearms tensing, preparing for the shot. At the very last, they’re showing them mercy. They could have slit their throats, left them to drown in their own blood, yet, they’re making it easy.

One shot to the head.

Then you see him.

A small flicker of light in the distance.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

The glass shatters, the man holding the gun to Hesh’s head stumbling down onto his knees, his hand firmly planted against his chest. It all happens so fast, the man beside him stands dazed, looking at his colleague. Another shot is fired, going right through the mans skull. A spray of brain, blood and skull covers you as the man fulls forward.

‘HESH, LOGAN! NOW!’ Merrick demands, the pair of them jumping to their feet.

Logan shoves the guard to the ground, pulling him away from you while Hesh and Merrick rush two of two of the soldiers by the balcony. The awestruck soldier is left to you and you watch as he rushes forward, pulling the gun from the corpse of the dead soldier. Fortunately, Hesh manages to grab the rifle from off of the solider standing on the balcony, elbowing him in the stomach. Rushing up to you, he hits the back of the mans guns with the butt of the rifle, causing the man to fall to his knees. You watch with wide eyes as the solider attempts to rush up to him while Hesh fights with the other one.

Another shot is fired.

The soldier behind Hesh falls to the ground.

‘I got you! Go!’ Merrick yells as more shots are fired.

The rest of the soldiers standing behind are dropped. To the right of you, you hear a gunshot as you stand up, watching Logan push himself up from off of the ground, the blood of a Federation soldier soaking into his t-shirt as he steps over the corpse. Grabbing the pistol discarded on the ground, Logan quickly fires a shot through the head of the solider Hesh is fighting with. A bullet whizzes past you, and without a second thought, you snap around, firing two shots directly into a soldier to the right of you. There are more shots from the right of you, and when the final body drops, you exhale.

‘You okay, Merrick?’ Logan asks as Merrick unties the ropes around his wrists. ‘Rib’s broken, but I can move,’ he reassures, rushing up to Hesh.

Logan pulls himself free, immediately approaching you, ripping off the edge of his t-shirt. You watched with a furrowed brow as he eyes you.

‘Need to keep you from bleeding all over the place,’ he states, ‘c’mere,’ he instructs. You step forwards and he hands you the scrap from his t-shirt. Pressing it against the wound, you groan as he wraps the rope around you waist, trying it tightly around your waist. ‘Keegan’ll kill us if you lose a drop more blood… lost enough today too,’ he says, tying it tightly. ‘You still good to fight?’

‘Always,’ you say.

Holding his hand out, the pair of you bump fists and for the first time since this morning, you feel the dread swirling in your blood slowly coming to a stop.

‘We got to get going,’ Merrick sharply states, marching ahead of the free of you. Hesh follows after him. ‘Keegan, we’re up and moving, get here as soon as you can,’ he instructs.

You look at his back in surprise, your own hand falling to your ear piece realising thatchy hadn’t taken them off of you.

‘Check… I’ll meet you in the kitchen,’ confirms the voice you have missed so terribly.

You clear your throat, wincing as you proceed forward, following after Merrick. Part of you wants him to say something to you, to tell you that everything is going to be okay, but you understand that doing such would absolutely be irresponsible, so, you busy yourself listening to Merrick.

‘We need to make it to the west side of the building,’ he states, ‘it’s the best chance of getting out of here.’ You nod silently, taking a moment to take a breath. Everything was going to be fine, and in the end of this, you were going to have Rorke’s head in your hands. ‘You still good to fight, Eclipse?’

‘Always,’ you give a short nod, ‘bleedings calmed,’ you confirm, despite the burning causing you legs to wobble slightly. In due time it will be over, all of this ill be a distant memory. Just push on a little longer, that’s all you have to do.

‘Shh.. noise behind the door,’ Hesh warns as he approaches it, ‘lets make this quick.’

—

As you push through the room, you exhale when a voice calls, 'I'm almost there,' Keegan confirms as your brow furrows, a particularly step sending a shot of pain through your stomach up your back.

You clamp your mouth shut as you whimper, your dry mouth longing for a drop of water. Eventually, this will be over, you just had to stick to it. He's almost here, you just have to keep pushing on. That's the only thing you can do.

Just keep fighting.

'You better find a place to hide, though, lotta guys headed right to you,' he warns.

You want to complain upon hearing such, why can it never just be easy? Everything has to be difficult, no matter what you're doing, you can never just catch a break.

‘Key,’ you exhale seeing the man standing before you.

His hardened haze softens upon catching sight of you, and you waste no time rushing up to him, throwing your arms around him. While unprofessional, you feel no shame in confessing that you were going to die without him, and if anything, you were deserving of this moment. The hug you share is brief as he grabs your forearms checking you over.

He stops when he sees your stomach.

Merrick curses and falls to the ground, ‘shit,’ he hisses, attempting to push himself up off of the ground. As you look back to Keegan, the pair of you turn your attention towards the doors behind you, hearing voices edging closer and closer.

Grabbing you, he looks to Hesh and Logan, ‘get him up,’ he demands, gently guiding you into the room behind you. ‘We gotta hide, not gonna be able to take them,’ he states, pulling you to the side. ‘What the fuck happened?’ he whispers as Logan and Hesh quickly help Merrick inside the room.

You feel his hand against your stomach, wincing as he looks at you. The pressure on your stomach falters as he pulls his hand away, observing a wet patch in his gloves.

‘Got shot talking back to Rorke,’ you confess, and while you’re sure it’s something you certainly should not be proud of, you speak with a glowing tone as you look at him. Besides, he trained you all those years ago, why should you be ashamed?

'Logan thought fast, used the rope he tied us up with to try and stop the bleeding,’ you mumble. His gaze hardens as he looks at you, and you swear you can see his Adams apple bobbing beneath his mask. Gently he pushes you behind him, helping you to the ground. Looking over his shoulder, he reaches his hand behind him, squeezing your knee.

It’s so quiet, yet you feel as though your heart is going to burst.

You place your bloody, shaking hand over his and offer him a wavering smile. He takes it in for a moment before snapping back into action. His hand is pulled from your knee and you’re left alone.

'Turn that radio down,' Merrick hisses as Hesh helps him down

He hums as the doors burst open. Pushing you behind him, you all sit and watch as shadows pass you by.

And then the world begins to still. You're unable to describe just what it is you're feeling, although, despite the weight and severity of everything happening around you, you feel light as a feather. Your clothes are soaked at this point and in spite of your efforts, you find your breathing slowing as you lean against the wall.

Clumsily, you reach your had out to latch onto the floor as you feel an overwhelming drowsiness hit you. You've put in all the work and effort you can muster, yet, you've tried from it and as you wade through the mush of panicked voices and the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, you succumb to your body's desperation and fully close your eyes, wading into the quiet of the stream.

#cod #call of duty #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod x reader #ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty x you #cod ghosts x reader

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stolenslumber · 8 months ago

Text

though the stars walk backward (sjy) (part 1)

Your first encounter with Jake Sim ends with ketchup on your clothes and his burger in his friend’s lap. The second encounter doesn’t go so smoothly, either. He thinks he might have gotten the hang of it by the third time, but as the saying goes: there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

PAIRING: sim jaeyun x female reader GENRE: college au, one-sided enemies-to-lovers (the e2l part is short-lived lol sry), friends-to-lovers, he fell first but then they both fell harder? lmao, soooooo much mutual pining, fluff, romance, jake as a star soccer player but also loser physics nerd, mc is an assistant manager on the soccer team because of Convoluted Reasons WARNINGS: swearing, familial angst/generational trauma WORD COUNT: ~11.8k a/n: lol (said with no humor whatsoever) i decided to post the first half rn and when i say "first half" what i mean is that i intended for this to come out as a complete fic instead of in parts however school is slamming me so hard and i'm contributing by ruining my own life SOOOO who was to say when this would ever see the light of day if it had to be a full fic..... anyways part 2 is like 30-40% written but i probably won't be able to work on the rest until after my semester ends so maybe may? lol (once again w/ no humor)

“Don’t freak out, but I think the girl you stare at in the library is staring back at you.”

Jake freezes with his burger halfway to his open mouth. “What? Where? And I don’t stare at her in the library—”

Jay nudges his friend’s jaw upwards. “I said don’t freak out.”

“At least he didn’t turn in her direction,” Sunghoon offers. But he says it while looking disdainfully at the ketchup dripping from Jake’s burger onto the dining hall table, so Jake isn’t all that comforted by it.

Instead, he repeats “Where?” through gritted teeth.

“At your four o’clock, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.” Jay squints. “I’m pretty sure she’s glaring at you, honestly. Okay, seriously do not freak out, but she’s coming over here…”

Jake tries to figure out what to do with himself as you approach with alarming speed— should he fix his hair, or tuck his shirt in? Damn it, he doesn’t even remember if he’s wearing something clean today. Before he can fully comprehend it, you’re standing in front of him, looking as pretty as ever in a silky dress that floats down to your ankles.

Your mouth opens to say something, and there’s a deep furrow between your brows that Jake longs to smooth out, but then his hands clamp down on his burger, and— “Oh shit, dude, I’m so sorry!”

Bright red ketchup decorates the front of your pristine white dress.

Your jaw drops, as does your gaze, fixated on the ugly red splotch spreading over the fabric covering your stomach. Everything you’d been meaning to say to him flies out of your head, replaced by blood rushing in your ears as your anger grows at the foolish oaf in front of you. “This is dry clean only,” you hiss.

Jake drops his burger in Jay’s lap, ignoring his friend’s squawk of indignation. Hurriedly, he wipes his hands on some napkins and tries offering them to you before cowing under your withering glare. “I am so sorry,” he repeats. His arms flail at his sides before he picks up the cardigan lying next to him and hands it to you. “You have a library shift coming up, right? Please feel free to wear this until you can get home and change. I have class until two, but I can take your clothes to the dry cleaners afterwards. I’m really so sorry!”

Your mouth shapes around air a few times as you work out exactly how to respond to him, but then your phone buzzes to remind you of your library shift— it is coming up— and you decide that you’ll deal with this— and him— later. Unhappily, you grab the proffered cardigan. “Two o’clock. Don’t be late.” And then you twist on your heel and depart, leaving Jake to stare sadly at the swish of your hair against your back.

“Are you gonna take my clothes to the dry cleaners, too?” Jay intones dryly from beside him.

Jake groans and sinks back down into the booth, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head repeatedly. “I can’t believe that just happened. I have to walk into traffic now.” Before Jay can say anything else, Jake tacks on, “And yeah, give me your pants.”

“Damn, take me to dinner first. Oh, wait, I guess you did offer me food.” Jay plucks the burger out of his lap and deposits it onto Jake’s plate pointedly.

Sunghoon lets out a whistle between his teeth. “Wow, I’ve never seen anyone fumble so badly. Like, seriously, that should be studied in a lab.”

“I got nervous!” Jake exclaims.

Sunghoon chortles. “Clearly. Cute girl comes over, and you not only call her dude, but you also squirt ketchup all over her.”

Jake kicks him in the shin, hard. “Can you not pile on?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sunghoon holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Was that the first time you interacted with her?”

Unhelpfully, Jay pipes up. “Unless you count staring at her in the library interacting, I’d say yes. Speaking of, how do you know her schedule, bro? You’re creepier than I thought.”

Jake jabs him with an elbow. “My class got canceled once and I saw her at the library then, okay? Some of us actually have homework, Socrates and Warren Buffet.” He rolls his eyes at Sunghoon (philosophy) and Jay (business) in turn. “And again, I don’t stare!”

A few hours later, Jake stares at the back of your head.

He’s not in his usual spot in the library, which is a round table near the windows on the mezzanine level— straight line of sight to one of the reference desks, but he did not pick that spot on purpose, no matter how much his friends like to joke that he did. He’s been sitting in that spot since the first day of his freshman year; he’d chosen it because he likes being able to see out into the quad, and the noise level in that area is perfect for him (not too quiet, which would make him fall asleep, and not too loud, which would just make him want to join in on wherever the fun was). He couldn’t have known that you would show up halfway through last year, get a job as one of the students manning the reference desk, and then occupy the exact spot his eyes tend to rest on when he zones out.

And he really couldn’t have known that you would be so pretty.

It doesn’t help that you’re in practically all of his classes this year, and he’s had the opportunity to talk to you every day for the past two weeks if he wanted to. He’s not the most shameless person in the world (Sunghoon), but he’s also not scared of his own reflection (Heeseung), so why couldn’t he have just introduced himself like a normal person on the first day of classes and avoided this whole ketchup fiasco?

Someone comes up to the desk to ask a question, and your head tilts toward them as the afternoon sunlight frames your face just so; Jake gulps and thinks, Oh yeah, that’s why. So pretty. And dizzyingly smart, if the way he sees your pencil fly over quizzes is anything to go by.

As if sensing his eyes on you, you twist around fully to catch him staring. Jake blinks deer-in-headlights eyes at you; if this was a cartoon, there would be a ?! above his head.

Your eyes narrow at him and you jerk your head in your own direction. Get over here.

Jake gulps and straightens up before shuffling over to you. He kind of feels like he’s walking to the gallows, but on a flower-lined path, because his cardigan on you softens you around the edges, and you look right at home in it.

“Heeeeeeey.” He raises a hand and waves at you, though he’s right in front of you. He winces before you can even raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, but then you do, so he grimaces. “Sorry, that was weird. Uh, hi.”

You nod curtly at him. “Hi. I’m done in two minutes. Thanks for being on time.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he mumbles to the floor. Luckily, you don’t catch it because you’re packing away the problem set you were doing in between answering student questions, which he chances a glance at because hey, he’d been having trouble with page 157.

Of course, you catch that. “What are you, twelve? Do your own work.”

“Wait, what? Hold on a second, I’m not trying to cheat off of you— hey, wait up!” He scrambles to catch up with you where you’re already halfway down the stairs. Panicked, he speeds past you and plants himself in your path, greeted by your look of supreme irritation for the second time that day. “I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you,” he says, more firmly this time. “I was just gonna ask you how you did with page 157, because I was having some trouble with it earlier.”

You scoff and slide to the left to go around him, only to be met by him mirroring you. “Are you serious right now? Get out of my way.”

“We’re going to the same place!”

“Yeah, and now I’ve remembered that I can pay for my own dry cleaning. Move.” You go right, and he follows.

“I’m still coming— I gotta take Jay’s pants there. I dropped my burger in his lap earlier when, well, you know.”

You go left again, and he follows once more. “Okay, for real? Let me go, asshole.”

Jake drops his backpack off his shoulders and hoists it onto his knee, rummaging around in it while still blocking your path. You think he’s officially lost it, but you’re also never one to miss an opportunity, so you feint to the right and then go left, but he’s faster and blocks you again with his head halfway buried in his backpack. Damn it, he’s good. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until he looks up at you and smiles sheepishly. “Soccer team,” he explains. Oh— that reminds you why you were approaching him at the dining hall in the first place, and real anger resurfaces in your blood.

“Like I care,” you snap. You’re about to just shove him down the stairs and call it an easy day when you’re met with a crumpled piece of graph paper waved in front of your face. “What the hell is this?”

“Next week’s problem set! See, look, I finished everything except the problems on page 157, and I did get started, but I just wanted to check if I was on the right path, okay? I promise, I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you.” He frowns. “These aren’t even graded for quality. It’s just a submission for completion.”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead. Though his handwriting is shit, you can see that he’s telling the truth. The fact that he’s doing the problem set for next week probably should have tipped you off in and of itself, but what surprises you is the simple elegance with which his calculations come out. “Hey, how’d you do that on number 89 on page 151—” You cut yourself off. “Never mind. Fine, I believe you. Can you move now? We’re blocking the entire stairway.”

Jake seems to finally notice the build-up of annoyed students in front of and behind you both. “Right, oops.” He zips up his backpack and slings it over one shoulder before descending the stairs with quick steps. He turns around and tilts his head quizzically at you when you don’t follow.

Truthfully, you’re trying to decide if you should make a break for it and go up the stairs so you can take a different set of stairs down, but then you realize how childish that sounds. So, it’s with less dignity than you’d like that you meet him at the bottom of the staircase. But you don’t stop where he’s standing; instead, you breeze past him so smoothly that he finds himself staring at the back of your head for a few seconds before springing into motion after you.

“Soooooo… dry cleaner’s?” He offers you a tentative smile once he’s fallen into step with you.

You seem to have made your mind up about something, because you turn to him with a dazzling smile that knocks the breath right out of his lungs. “Lead the way.”

“O-Okay.” He’s taken aback by your sudden about-face, but he’s not going to question it.

He tells you that he’s happy to drive there, and you’re perfectly agreeable about it. You even start talking about the problem set that had been the source of such strife just minutes earlier. At the dry cleaner, you give him the biggest surprise yet when you ask for his number. Obviously, he gives it to you, and he has to pretend like he isn’t perturbed by the cryptic, almost manic look in your eyes when you promise that you’ll be in touch.

But then you’re gone without so much as a goodbye, and it’s only when he gets back to his place that he realizes he doesn’t even know how you got home, and he can’t text you because he doesn’t have your number.

Still. A win is a win.

ball sports (derogatory) (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon)

jake: this has been the strangest and possibly greatest day of my life

sunghoon: ur preaching to the choir ketchup boy

sunghoon: yizhuo told me i was hotter with blonde hair

sunghoon: so like hell yeah she thinks im hot but hell no now i have to dye my hair back

jake: ????? did i ask

jake: i’m talking about MY day

jay: she actually did not say you were hotter with blonde hair. in fact none of those words came out of her mouth

jay: you asked if she liked your new hair and she said no

sunghoon: hop off my dick tf????

heeseung: so what happened jake

sunghoon: oh i can tell u this it’s old news

sunghoon: jake fumbled his first interaction w/ the girl he stares at in the library

jake: BUT she asked for my number and said she’d be in touch!!!!

sunghoon: right so u can pay for her dry cleaning bill

jake: OR maybe she wants to be friends

jake: to lovers<3

jay: idk she kinda looked like she wanted to take you out when she was coming over to us at lunch today

jake: take me out… oh my god LIKE ON A DATE?????

jay: no like

jay: lethally

women’s rights and wrongs (you, minjeong, aeri, somi)

you: so you know how i was gonna confront jake today

yizhuo: yeah i heard that went poorly

yizhuo: sunghoon said something about ketchup????

you: nvm all that. i have a Better Plan. i’m gonna ruin his life

minjeong: cool

somi: noooooo he’s hot

you: HE RUINED MY BROTHER’S LIFE

somi: girl u have to let that go

somi: ur brother is 10 and made it to the B team for club soccer

somi: i think he’ll be fine

you: BUT HE SHOULD’VE BEEN IN THE A TEAM. I SAW JAKE’S BEADY EYES SINGLING HIM OUT UNFAIRLY

somi: he actually has like insane puppy dog eyes

you: anyways i’m going to systematically but subtly make his life more and more difficult as soon as i start assistant managing his soccer team on monday. but he will never know it’s me bc i’m going to be so nice and normal to his face BUT ACTUALLY i’m gonna make him my bitch

yizhuo: “nice and normal to his face” u have the worst poker face i’ve ever seen

minjeong: technically speaking if ur an assistant manager aren’t u THEIR bitch

For reasons you cannot fathom, the men’s varsity soccer team has practice on Monday mornings, at the crack of dawn. You’re beginning to regret giving up your reasonably timed library shifts where you basically got paid to sit there and do your homework and check out computer chargers to students every now and then, but these are the things you do when you’re trying to be a good sister.

Autumn has arrived abruptly— almost overnight, if the smattering of ambers and ochres falling from the trees lining the soccer field is anything to go by. You realize you’re dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather when your teeth are chattering and your eyes are watering from the sting of the cold. The dress you’d picked out last night for today seems laughable now.

“What are you doing here?” Jake’s voice, so unexpectedly close, makes you jolt and flail around a bit before turning to meet his confused expression— head tilted, eyes wide, and damn it, Somi’s right, he does have insane puppy dog eyes.

You gesture vaguely at the field. “I’m one of the new assistant managers. Surprise! Told you I’d be in touch.”

“Speaking of— did you get home alright the other day?”

“Yeah, of course, I just walked.”

He wants to be concerned about that answer— the closest student accommodations are at least a thirty minute walk away from the dry cleaner’s— but then he sees you hop from one foot to the other while rubbing your arms. You look so out of place with your heeled mary janes sinking into the dew-damp field with every hop, but it’s so cute that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning too widely. In a move that now feels familiar, he digs around in his bag before pulling out a spare sweatshirt and handing it to you.

Appreciation for his kindness and irritation at his kindness play tug-of-war inside of you for all of two seconds before a particularly brisk gust of wind hits you, and then you’re yanking the sweatshirt over your head and breathing in clean soap and something else unfairly cozy. “Thanks,” you mumble.

“Sure thing. Here, take this, too.” Jake digs around in his bag some more and emerges triumphant with a thermos. He twists the cap off and pours some liquid into the cap before offering it to you.

It smells like… “Hot chocolate?”

“With two espresso shots, because we have intro to Python right after practice today.”

You grimace in unison at that reminder, and you’re kind of glad that that’s the last expression on your face before you sip at the drink, because it’s perfect, and you have to refrain from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. So he’s practical, makes delicious hot drinks, and, because you’re not immune to those big brown eyes, attractive. It’s a pity he was such a jerk to your brother, because otherwise you’d be swooning.

But he must have seen something change in your face, because he lets out a giggle— oh no, it’s so cute— and hands you the entire thermos. “I think you need it more than me,” he explains.

You try to remind yourself of your brother’s disappointment after club soccer try-outs last week, which you had seen from your totally not-creepy position, brooding inside your stepdad’s car over how to best connect with this 10-year-old kid who was just old enough to recognize that girls had cooties and not old enough to share any genuine interests with you. It was less creepy because you were there to pick your brother up, but you feel like you’re not any closer to him than a stranger (in fairness, you hadn’t known that he existed before last year). You’ve tried, in fits and starts, to get to know MJ better, to actually form some sort of sibling bond with him, but most of the time, you’re his glorified chauffeur. He tries, too, and your heart goes all fuzzy when you notice it, but there’s only so far that a 10-year-old whose greatest joys in life are cookies ‘n cream ice cream (understandable), and soccer (more confounding) can get before he decides that his Nintendo is more readily enjoyable.

The look on MJ’s face after try-outs last week had spurred you to apply for the assistant manager position. He was so sad about the B team, and you did the whole comforting, cajoling song-and-dance as best as you could, but he had just snapped at you that you didn’t get it, that you couldn’t get it. And then he had burst into frustrated tears, and you vowed at that moment to learn everything you could about soccer, as well as to give Jake Sim a piece of your mind.

Jake Sim, whom you had only known as the guy that finished the first lab faster than anyone else in your extrasolar research methods class, until you saw him blowing a whistle on the sidelines of MJ’s soccer try-outs, looking like he had some sort of authority as he directed a group of kids, including MJ, in a series of drills. Later, you found out from Minjeong that Jake is a star player on your school’s soccer team, so he presumably has some basis for helping out with the local club soccer team, but you hadn’t been all that interested in finding out more. You’d seen enough from the way he took MJ aside after the teams had been announced, and MJ’s subsequent tears in the car, and you knew vengeance would be yours.

Unfortunately, vengeance is currently offering you hot chocolate with two espresso shots, and he is distressingly earnest when he wraps your hands around the thermos and points you in the direction of the other assistant managers who are supposed to onboard you. So, you bid Jake a stiff goodbye as you try to ignore the warmth spreading from the tip of your nose down into your throat. It’s definitely the hot chocolate, but you’re annoyed at even the possibility that it could be connected to Jake.

women’s rights and wrongs

yizhuo: so how’s world domination (ruining jake’s life) going?

you: hard to say. he gave me a sweatshirt and hot chocolate bc i’m wearing a stupid ass outfit and it’s cold as hell out here

minjeong: he said that?!

you: no I’M saying that

you: i need to change my entire wardrobe so i’m never caught unawares like this ever again. i let my guard down and this is what happens.

somi: a guy is nice to u? yeah god forbid

you: HE IS BESMIRCHING MY HONOR (AVENGING MJ)

minjeong: jeez you get so victorian when you’re distressed

somi: sorry are we ignoring the fact that he gave her a sweatshirt and hot chocolate????

minjeong: omfg YEAH that’s like. bf behavior

you: oh fuck there’s some sort of commotion going on out there in the field

you: omg they’re bringing a STRETCHER out

you: i gotta go guys ttyl xoxo etc.

yizhuo: notice how she never responded to the bf behavior allegations

Jung Sungchan, team captain, is down and out for the count after being wheeled out of practice on a stretcher with a torn ACL. This is reasonably concerning to everyone on the team, but none more so than to Jake, who finds himself at the receiving end of a Serious Talk about leadership qualities and such from his coach that ends with, “... and that’s why we want you to fill in for Sungchan while he’s recovering.”

“Huh?” Jake tilts his head at his coach. He must have misheard; there’s no way they want him to fill in for Sungchan.

“The seniors love you, the underclassmen look up to you, your peers respect you, and all the coaches agree. Sungchan will come back as soon as he’s able, but he won’t be able to actually play this season, so you’ll have to keep up the leadership on the field and off. We’re confident in your abilities. Good man.” His coach claps him on the shoulder, and that’s the end of it.

Jake is still staring dumbly in his coach’s departing direction when you approach him with his cardigan, sweatshirt, and thermos.

You had planned to just give him his stuff and leave, but curiosity gets the better of you after having witnessed the spectacle out on the field. “Everything alright? Who got carried out on that stretcher?”

Still a bit shell-shocked, Jake speaks without thinking: “Worried it was me?”

You look at him like he’s an alien species. “It clearly wasn’t, because whoever it was is much taller than you.”

Jake frowns up at you. “Okay, no need to go for the height. That was my captain, who’s gonna be out for the rest of the season, so now Coach wants me to fill in for him… I don’t know what he’s thinking. I mean, I get that seniority isn’t everything, but this feels kinda unfair to any of the seniors who could’ve stepped in for Sungchan.”

“How convenient to have everything handed to you on a silver platter,” you mutter. It’s an entirely unjustified thing to say— you barely know Jake or anything about his background, but then MJ’s tear-stained face flashes across your mind, and you don’t feel so bad about it.

Genuine hurt and a hint of actual anger sparks in Jake’s eyes. “Okay, what’s your problem? I get that I didn’t make the best of first impressions the other day, but I apologized and tried to make up for it— you can just text me the bill from the dry cleaner’s, by the way— and I don’t know what else I’ve done to upset you, but I’m sorry for whatever that is, too. Are we good, or is there something else you’ve got against me?” His last question comes out almost aggressively as he stands up, bringing him not quite chest-to-chest with you, but close enough that you notice the perfectly defined cupid’s bow of his lips, and then you’re disgusted with yourself. College hormones have made you fallible; it shouldn’t sway you that he’s cute (and kind, and smart, and considerate, your brain reminds you unhelpfully).

“We’re good,” you snap. “Here’s your stuff.” You shove the things he gave you into his arms before whipping around sharply to walk (stomp) away, pointedly ignoring his surprised yelp when your hair hits him in the face. Childishly, you think that it serves him right.

Sadly, your conscience comes back to haunt you approximately 18 hours later, at which point you’re pulling out ingredients and clanging whisks against bowls.

Minjeong sticks her head into the kitchen to ask, “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements, letting a particularly clumpy spot of brownie batter fall from your raised spatula back into the mixing bowl. “Cleaning,” you lie baldly. One unimpressed eyebrow raise from her gets you to clear your throat and put down your spatula. “Making brownies,” you amend.

“At midnight?”

“Yeah, I just had… a craving.”

Minjeong seems to consider pushing you on this, but the smell of the brownie batter wins her over. “Awesome, can I have some?” She moves to dip her finger into the batter.

“No!” You shriek, covering the bowl with your arms crossed on top of each other in an X.

Minjeong pulls her hand back and looks at you with alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You sigh and retreat from the bowl. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Um, I’m making brownies… for Jake—”

“For who now?”

“—’s soccer team,” you finish, turning to glare at Somi and her untimely entrance.

She only waves slyly at you from where she’s leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Y’know, it’s not really his soccer team. It’s the school’s soccer team, or maybe Jung Sungchan’s, but sure, let’s call it Jake’s, too.” She tsks. “Pretty privilege.” You give her a pointed up-and-down, to which she just shrugs.

Minjeong seizes you by the shoulders and peers aggressively into your eyes, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Why are you making guilt brownies for Jake Sim?”

“They’re not guilt brownies!” You splutter, waving your hands in front of her face as if that will stave off the gleam of interrogatory insanity in her eyes.

Drawn by her nose and her ears, Yizhuo chooses that point to wander into the kitchen, as well. “Who are the guilt brownies for?”

You groan and drop your face into your hands. Somi and Minjeong exclaim “Jake Sim!” in gleeful unison before dissolving into giggles.

Yizhuo decides to show you mercy, bless her heart, because all she does is come over to inspect the brownie batter and hum noncommittally. Of course, she ruins it when she spots what’s on the stove and gasps dramatically, “Guys, she made ganache! These are, like, mega guilt brownies!”

Back when the four of you first started living together last year, you were a mid-year transfer student whose sudden appearance had forced Somi, Minjeong, and Yizhuo’s two-room triple to turn into a two-room quad, and your guilt about disrupting their living arrangements had led you to bake them brownies from scratch— cocoa powder, chopped chocolate, browned butter, espresso, and everything. The girls had clamored for the recipe (your mother’s). Since then, you have happily moved out of the dorms and into a subsidized student apartment, but you each continue to make variations of the brownies for each other as peace offerings after a spat, or celebrations, or gestures of comfort.

And now, as an apology for being mean to Jake Sim, which is how you summarize it to your still-giggling roommates.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll like them,” Yizhuo offers, with a poorly-concealed smirk.

“They’re for the team,” you repeat.

“Riiiiiight, and is the team with us in the room right now?” Somi wiggles her eyebrows at you, then her shoulders, then her entire body, and it’s so absurd that you tear up from laughing too hard. You had moved across the country for your brother, and you hadn’t expected anything else would come out of it, but now you have the best of friends, who hold a piece of your heart, and you, theirs. The thought makes you unexpectedly emotional, so much so that you begin making another batch of brownies.

“These are just I’m really glad we’re friends brownies,” you sniffle.

Somi exchanges a look with Minjeong and Ningning, and then they’re all descending upon you in a hug; one big mess of limbs and love. It’s absolutely wonderful.

The next day, you carry multiple containers of brownies around with you all day, looking for a chance to offload them (and your guilty conscience) onto Jake. It shouldn’t be this hard— you share four out of five classes with him this semester, and you’re supposed to be at two soccer practices a week in rotation with the other assistant managers, as well as every other game. But everywhere you turn, Jake is either slipping out of class before you can get to him, or he arrives just before the professor starts lecturing and you’re already seated with your pencil poised over paper.

You’re not on rotation for practice today, so you spend a rather agitated handful of hours doing schoolwork after classes, until you get a last-minute text from your stepdad asking if you can pick MJ up.

Of course, you get the shock of your life when you get to the address your stepdad sent you and see Jake Sim playing soccer with your brother at some local park. You’re not alone in your surprise; Jake makes a full stop upon catching sight of you and gets a soccer ball to the head for it, knocking him fully down to the ground. Thankfully, he pops back up immediately, just in time to catch you speeding past him to fuss over MJ.

“What on earth are you doing here alone?!” You exclaim to your brother, looking around as if the rest of his soccer team will materialize out of thin air. “Did that bad man lure you out here?”

Jake’s eyes bulge out of his head as he looks around at the zero other people on the field before pointing to himself and mouthing Me? at you.

MJ just shrugs and points at Jake. “Practicing with Jake hyung.”

“Jake hyung?” You squint at the offender in question.

“Yeah, he’s been helping me get ready for next season’s tryouts.” MJ scuffs the toe of his shoe against the grass, clearly embarrassed by your fretting.

“Hey, Minjae, is this your… sister?” Jake asks tentatively. The question itself is innocent enough, but irritation and jealousy set your blood buzzing; MJ rarely lets you call him Minjae. He claims MJ is cooler, and he doesn’t let your mother call him Minjae, either, but your stepdad calls him Minjae freely and with an abundance of returned affection.

“Yep.” MJ pops the p as he looks between the two of you, now sensing that whatever is going on here is larger than him. “Uh, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You and Jake respond in unison, which makes you glare and him blush.

“Okay, cool. See ya.” MJ races off to the porta-potties with unusual enthusiasm, but you suppose he’d rather be there than here to witness the breakdown of normal social interaction between you and Jake.

The instant MJ is out of earshot, you whirl on Jake and demand, “How do you know my brother?”

Instinctually, he puts his hands up in surrender. “He looked like he was pretty down on himself after club try-outs last week, so I talked to him and offered to run drills with him, like, once a week, okay? I’m not some…. bad man!”

“Oh.” You deflate in front of his eyes as you realize the depths of your misunderstanding. “Well… okay.”

He eyes you apprehensively. “We’re good?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re… good.” The words remind you of the acerbic encounter you had with him the day before, which reminds you of the guilt brownies, which reminds you of the guilt. Like everything else in your life, you decide to get over this with clinical efficiency. “Listen, I owe you an apology. Probably several. I was picking up MJ from try-outs last week, and I saw him with you, and then he was crying in the car, so I jumped to conclusions about you and your role in the try-outs. That’s why I came over to you at lunch the other day, to tell you off.” You take a deep breath and barrel on, mindful of your brother’s likely imminent return. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, really, don’t worry about it.” Jake rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at you. He’s never seen you like this before— contrite, sincere, and concentrating so fully on him that he wants to either hide his face from you or do something even stupider, like ask you out. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “I think the dry cleaning is ready, if you want to go pick it up right now. With me. Or without me, I guess. I can just, like, be there. And you’ll be there, too. But we’ll be there separately. Wow, should I stop talking?”

That prompts laughter from you, and his breath catches in his throat at the wonder of watching delight unfold across your face. In that moment, sunlight emerges from behind a patchwork of clouds, but it’s your laughter that warms him from head to toe.

“Let me just drop MJ off at home, and then I’ll come with you to the dry cleaner. Together, not separately.” Your eyes twinkle in residual amusement at him, and he lets himself break out into a goofy grin.

MJ makes his presence known by loudly asking why the two of you are just standing there smiling at each other, and if Jake can walk home with you all. Jake manufactures a coughing fit and you ignore MJ’s first question, but you say yes to the second one.

MJ cheers and starts tugging Jake along in the direction of your mother and stepdad’s house. You trail behind them in bemused amusement; they talk about soccer the whole time, and Jake is playful and patient but never condescending with the boy that clearly idolizes him. Watching Jake interact with your brother is bittersweet— it’s so easy between them, in a way that you’ve never experienced yourself. By the time you reach the house, MJ has extracted a promise from you both that he can attend Jake’s next home game.

At the door, MJ fist-bumps Jake and is magnanimous enough to allow you to kiss his cheek goodbye. You send him off with a, “Be kind!” and he hollers back, “I know!”

And then it’s just you and Jake, who’s looking at you with a newfound curiosity that makes you nervous. “What?” You snap, and then you instantly backtrack. “Sorry, I, uh, I’m still a little wound up from—” thinking you were a jerk— “… earlier.”

“All good.” Jake tips his head towards the sidewalk, and you realize you’re still on the doorstep of MJ’s house. You follow Jake onto the sidewalk, where he asks, “Do you always tell him to be kind?”

It’s the last thing you expected him to ask. “Um, yeah. Not that he’s a mean kid or anything, but my mother always told me to be good, and I’ve heard her say the same thing to him, so I just… want him to hear something different.” Because be good just means be quiet and perform well, and you already go to therapy every other week for that.

Jake beams at you. “That’s awesome. You’re a great sister.”

He’s saying all the things that would be right for someone else, but for you, they’re all the wrong things. Still, there’s no way he could know that, and it’s not his fault, so you try to tone down your wince. “Thanks, but I barely know how to talk to MJ. He’s old enough to find it lame to just hang out with his sister, and we don’t have a lot in common. That’s why I applied to be an assistant manager, actually— I’m trying to learn more about soccer.”

“Sounds like best-sibling-of-the-year behavior to me. Seriously, I have an older brother— he’s the one who introduced me to soccer— and we have a great relationship, but he never joined the orchestra for me, or anything like that.” Jake nudges your shoulder with his. “And hey, if you want to learn more about soccer, you can ask me anything, anytime.”

He turns eyes so kind and earnest on you that your thought process halts and then restarts like a broken record. You have to grab onto the closest coherent thought before you stare at him for too long. “You were in the orchestra?”

Jake wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, but I was pretty average with a violin. Dumb jock, you know?” He smiles at you to let you know he’s joking.

Thankfully, you smile right back. “Soooo true. Remind me how long the first extrasolar research methods lab took you?”

He blushes and waves you off. “Ah, well, that’s the kind of stuff I want to do in the future, so I better get good at it, right?” He lowers his voice, even though there’s no one around who could possibly overhear his nerdy confession. “Honestly, I cried a little when the first images from the James Webb telescope came out.”

In equally hushed tones, you respond, “Me, too.”

Jake grins. “Aerospace engineering, right? Your brother did say that his sister loves machines and stars.”

The fact that MJ talked about you at all is enough to have you floating on air. “Yeah, that’s me. And hey, this is us.” You point to the sign for the dry cleaner.

“Oh. We got here fast.” Jake tries— and likely fails— not to sound too disappointed. But you’ve already gone ahead into the store, so he leaves behind his foolish desires (walking back to where you’d dropped your brother off and then here again, if only to spend more time with you) at the door.

In the store, Jake gives Jay’s pants a perfunctory once-over to check that they’re fine, but his attention is mainly focused on your dress— it comes back perfectly clear of any ketchup stains, to which he lets out a loud, relieved sigh.

You eye him strangely for that reaction. “I know I was a bit high-strung about it at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if my dress was ruined. I wouldn’t, like, come after you with a pitchfork.”

He pauses for a second to let that image play out in his mind. “Y’know, I didn’t think you would, but now that you’ve brought up the possibility…” He grins when you laugh and shove lightly at his shoulder. “But seriously, it would have been a shame. You looked really nice in that dress.” The words tumble thoughtlessly out of his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he sees your mouth part in surprise before flattening into a tiny, pleased smile.

“I would hope so. I have excellent taste,” you say, trying to sound haughty and ending up somewhere near flustered. There’s heat in your cheeks; you’re stuck between wanting to wipe that boyish smirk off of his face and wanting to frame the way it looks.

“So… are you headed back to your house?” Jake tries out what he wants to say next in his head, first: And would you mind if I walked you there?

“Oh, yeah. It’s getting kind of late. I think your friend— Sunghoon? Yizhuo invited him over for dinner tonight, actually, if you… also want to come.” You cringe at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, not that it’s going to be a big thing, or anything. Minjeong and Somi are making an insane amount of mac ‘n cheese, because there was a really good sale at the grocery store, so we’re just trying to offload it, really. There’s gonna be a bunch of people there.”

Jake’s head tilts in confusion. “Your friends live with your family?”

“What? No, we’re in an apartment on Maplewood. MJ lives with his parents, but I don’t live there.” You grimace. “I go there for family dinner once a week, so that’s where I went after we came to the dry cleaner for the first time. But that’s only on Wednesdays, thank god.”

Jake hums noncommittally. There’s more he’d like to ask, to know, to understand, but then his stomach growls, and he laughs sheepishly. “I’ll gladly take you up on the mac ‘n cheese. I need some fodder to tease Sunghoon with, anyways. Seeing him with Yizhuo always does it.”

“The will-they-won’t-they childhood-menaces-to-who-knows show?”

“Exactly. So, tell me about aerospace engineering…”

The walk to your apartment is long by any measurement, but it passes by quickly. Jake asks you genuine questions about propulsion systems and your friends, and you learn that he loves superhero movies, his family dog, and poetry, of all things. He’s endearingly bashful about the last one.

“Physics is pretty dry at the undergraduate level, even when it’s astrophysics. But the way that poets talk about the stars… It takes my breath away, a little bit. Reminds me that it’s a marvel to just look heavenward, I guess.” He rubs the tip of his reddening nose. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all.” Romantic, actually, is what you want to tell him. Romantic, because he talks about space like it’s a reverential thing, like a telescope can be a paintbrush through the night sky, like constellations are more than just sets of stars connected by the human eye. But you’ve reached your apartment, so all you say is, “Hold on, let me get my keys.”

“Oh, hey, I can help you with that—”

“No, it’s okay, I got it—”

In the fumble of dry cleaning, backpacks, sports duffels, and totes between you two, somehow every single container of brownies tumbles out of your bag. Jake’s eyes catch on the hasty letters you’d scrawled on duct tape on the lids of each container last night to distinguish between the brownies you ended up making for your roommates: FOR JS & TEAM. His eyebrows shoot up as your face burns; he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…

“There was also a sale on baking supplies at the grocery store,” you lie. Then, you shake your head. “Okay, no, that’s not true. I made these last night and I meant to give them to you today but I never got you at the right moment during classes, and then there was the whole thing with MJ, so I almost forgot… Anyways. You said you were worried about the seniors on the team being upset about you for stepping in as interim captain, and I’m sure they’re not so easily swayed by just baked goods, but I thought maybe you could give these to them, as a way to, like, soften the beaches, or something. It’s not much, but I promise, they’re really good.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “You made these… for me? Even when you hated me?”

“I made them for you to give to the team,” you insist. “But, yeah… I did.” You frown at the ground. “Look, I really am sorry about the way I treated you before. I wasn’t going to, like, trauma-dump on you, but I guess I will, now, because I want you to know that I never hated you.” You take a deep breath. “MJ’s mom is my mother, too, but she left my dad and I when I was in elementary school. I didn’t hear from her for a decade, until last year, when she reached out and told me I had a brother on the other side of the country, and she had been pregnant with him when she left my dad and I.”

You chance a glance at Jake. “Please don’t look at me with pity. My dad’s a great guy, and so is my step-dad. I moved out here to be closer to MJ, and you can see how that’s going, but I love him purely, without complication. It’s just my mother who’s… complicated. Anyways, I just got MJ, so I’m a bit overprotective over him, and I was quick to paint you as the bad guy, but that’s no excuse. These are I’m-sorry-for-jumping-to-conclusions brownies. And bribe-your-team brownies.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you with pity.” It’s awe, he thinks. Awe for your heart, loyal to the point of changing schools and moving across the country for a brother you had never met. Awe for your diligence in making enough brownies to feed an entire team. And most of all, awe at your goodness, for doing all of this because you knew you were in the wrong.

“Can you look at her somewhere where you’re not blocking the doorway?” Sunghoon’s voice pierces through the strange moment. You and Jake move into action all at once, collecting containers of brownies while juggling your other things.

“Thanks for the help, dude.” Jake punches Sunghoon’s shoulder sarcastically.

Sunghoon shrugs and holds up the shopping bags in his hands. “Precious goods, my man.”

Jake peers into one of the bags. “Tiramisu?”

“Yeah, Yizhuo was on my ass about contributing to dinner.” Sunghoon rolls his eyes fondly. “She also told me to marshall the troops for the mac ‘n cheese, so Heeseung and Jay are a couple minutes behind me. Seriously, did you guys buy out the entire grocery store, or something?”

You laugh as you unlock the door and usher them inside. “Or something.” You had heard that the sale really was quite good, but truthfully, you suspect there’s more to it than that. Based on the way Somi exaggeratedly darts her eyes between you and Jake, you think you’re probably right. You get the sense that even if you hadn’t invited him for dinner, he would have shown up with Sunghoon’s contingent anyways.

“Ladies, you are so not slick,” you mutter to your friends when it’s just the four of you in the kitchen.

Minjeong smiles beatifically at you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is just an impromptu but no less lovely dinner party for our friends… oh, there’s the door! I’ll get it.”

In a sense, you suppose she’s right. It’s not like Jake is the only other person at this semi-spontaneous gathering; eventually, there are almost 20 people eating mac ‘n cheese on various surfaces in your apartment. It’s an eclectic bunch— pretty much anyone you or your friends knew who was available to come eat mac ‘n cheese. But Minjeong insists that you and Jake share an armchair in the living room because there’s nowhere else to eat, even though there is clearly an open chair next to Heeseung and a free spot on the rug next to some kid from your programming class last year.

“This is really good!” Jake enthuses. He says it while shoveling food into his mouth, so it sounds more like Vif iv weally good! He’s also eating with his non-dominant hand to keep from spilling anything on you where you’re pressed up against each other in the armchair, though that turns out to be fairly counterproductive because he keeps missing his mouth with the fork.

Your head tips back in a fit of giggles. “You look ridiculous,” you inform him. He just grins at you with chipmunk cheeks stuffed with tiramisu. “Here, let me.” You take the fork from his hand and feed him a mouthful; it’s much more efficient this way, you reason to yourself.

He’s so startled by this that he starts choking on the dusting of cocoa powder atop the dessert. You end up thumping him on the back until his airway is clear again, and he hopes you chalk up the redness of his face to the choking.

“Um, you have a little…” You motion to a spot of cocoa powder at the corner of his mouth. He wipes at entirely the wrong corner, and you’d think he was doing this on purpose, except he starts choking again when you use your thumb to wipe the powder away.

He gets over it much more quickly this time, though. Once he’s finally back to normal, he wills himself to summon all— or any— of the charm he has ever possessed to turn warm eyes on you. “Thanks for inviting me here tonight,” he says. There’s a slight rasp to his voice that is probably due to all the choking, but he hopes you think it’s sexy, or something.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Thanks for helping us eat the food, and for, uh, coaching MJ, I guess?” Your voice is approaching a squeak, which makes you want to die, a little bit. He’s just looking at you so sincerely.

His gaze holds yours. “Easy day. And hey, you’re totally welcome to come join us whenever you want. I was just gonna keep meeting him at that park, so you know where to find us.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, quieter this time. “My mother… she’s hard on him. Always be good, be the best, you know? So he was pretty torn up about not making the A team.”

“I kinda sensed that he was tense during try-outs. Not that it’s bad to try hard, or to want to be on a certain team, but at his age, he could benefit from just… having fun, I think. If you don’t mind me saying that.”

You nod. “Believe me, I agree. MJ’s way too serious for his own good.”

“Some may say he gets it from you,” Jake teases lightly.

“Some may say that’s not how genetics work, but we’ll leave that to the pre-meds.” You tip your head toward Yizhuo, who is arguing about some memory from hers and Sunghoon’s childhood with him. Your heart glows with contentment as you look around the room; all of your favorite people (plus or minus miscellaneous others) gathered in one place on a random Monday night.

Jake carves out a piece of his tiramisu and holds it up to you like a toast. “To the pre-meds. And old friends, and new ones.”

“And new ones,” you echo.

As it turns out, the soccer team is exactly as easily swayed as a container of brownies.

You’re at practice when it winds down and Jake holds up your stack of containers like Simba in that one scene in The Lion King. “A gift from the lady,” he intones grandly to the team gathered in front of him. You nudge him with your hip. “Okay, and me, I guess, but seriously, she did all the work. Listen, guys, I’m not gonna lie— it’s gonna be rough without Sungchan. But I believe in us, and I believe in these brownies!”

“Brownies!” The team roars back. Said brownies are demolished in a matter of minutes, and then every player makes it a point to sing your praises and give Jake a hug or a fist-bump on their way out.

You’re still gaping by the time it’s just you and Jake left on the field. “That’s all it took?”

Jake turns to you with his arms crossed smugly over his chest. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. The way to the heart is through the stomach, and all that.”

“Otherwise known as: men are so easy.” You bemoan all the fancy ingredients and time you put into those brownies; you’re sure the team would have been just as happy with boxed Betty Crocker.

“Yeah, but these taste like care and love,” he insists.

“Alright, buddy, I wouldn’t go that far. And how would you know? You haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh my god. You’re right.” Jake looks aghast. “Are there any left?!”

You make a show of looking around at all the empty containers around you. Jake’s face falls so comically and he pouts so fervently that you can’t keep up the ruse for long. Laughing, you pull out one last ziplock bag of brownies from behind your back and present it to him. “Saved one just in case.”

He plucks the bag out of your hands with exaggerated delicacy, which vanishes when he bites into the brownie and lets out an honest to god moan. Heat floods your face immediately.

His eyes are closed when he tells you, quite seriously, that you are a goddess amongst mortals. “Did you drug this? I feel like I’ve ascended to a new plane of existence.” He moans, again, eyes still closed.

“Hello, stop making that sound, you weirdo,” you hiss.

He cracks one eye open to wink at you. “Where is your mind? Get out of the gutter, ma’am. Ow, okay, I get it!” He jumps away from your jabbing elbows. “Seriously, these are incredible. You could make money off of them.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to make them again, for free.”

“Will you?”

“... Maybe if you let me look at how you got to your answer on number 89 on page 151.”

Jake’s hoot of delight carries you all the way to the library, where he shows you his usual spot and apologizes for ever making you uncomfortable with his staring— it’s just that you used to occupy the spot to which his eyes zoned out.

You give him a blank stare of your own. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never noticed that you sat here. Or that you stared.”

Jake’s blush starts from the bridge of his nose and spreads out across his cheeks. “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.”

“But I can sit next to you now, and you can stare all you want,” you offer jokingly.

His blush only intensifies. “Nope, that’s fine, I’ll just keep zoning out at whoever they replaced you with at the reference desk. Great, it’s… Huening.” He waves unenthusiastically at the lanky boy.

“Who?” You squint at your replacement.

“Huening Kai. He’s on the basketball team with Heeseung.”

“Are all of your friends athletes?”

“Not all, but most of them, yeah. Sunghoon and Jay are doubles partners on the tennis team, and they were roommates with Heeseung and I, respectively, so that’s how we all became friends. But I’ve got other friends in the physics department. And now, you.” Jake smiles softly at you, letting the words linger in the air for so long that your pulse starts to pick up speed.

“So, this is the famous staring, huh?” You mean for the words to come out friendly and light, but instead they come out low and musing.

“The one and only.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re wondering.” And you mean it. His gaze is warm and easy, like the blanket a loved one draws up over your shoulders when you’re half-asleep.

Confidence returns to him like a boomerang as the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Are you giving me permission to stare at you?”

“Five minutes of staring for every problem you let me look at in your notebook.”

“We’re bargaining now?” He tsks and pulls out his work, though his shoulders are shaking with laughter. “How about this: you can look at my notebook for as long as you want, if you let me do the same for yours.”

“That’s just called working together, Jake.”

“Sure, but I also get to stare at you.”

“Tough deal for me.” But you’re staring at him, too, and there’s something hesitant and wanting brewing in your chest. It goes away when you clear your throat. “I’m feeling benevolent today, so I’ll allow it.”

Two hours pass by as you work on problem sets in companionable silence. He does stare at you more often than is perhaps necessary, but half of the time it’s because he really is zoning out. The other half… well, just because you’re friends now doesn’t mean you stopped being pretty.

When you finally decide to call it quits, it’s almost 8pm, and both of your stomachs are growling loudly. Jake yawns and stretches leisurely, like a large puppy. You’d laugh at the sight if you weren’t so transfixed by the ripple of a toned stomach exposed by his stretching. Suddenly, you remember that the soccer team does strength training for an hour every other day, and Jake is no exception.

Thankfully, he’s too busy complaining about being hungry to notice your wandering eyes. “Ugh, I think the dining hall is closing now. I have ramen back at my place, if you wanna—” Jake cuts himself off abruptly as he realizes the innuendo behind his words. “I mean, not like that. You probably have food at your apartment, what am I even saying, haha!” His voice goes high-pitched towards the end.

Mercifully, you ignore his slip-up. “Yeah, actually, we still have mac ‘n cheese left, so I’m probably going to microwave some of that. You’re welcome to take some home with you, if you want.” You shake your head immediately after the words come out of your mouth. “What am I even saying? You have ramen back at your place.”

And then you’re back at square one, both staring at each other with wide eyes and heat creeping up your necks.

Jake is the first to break the silence with peals of laughter that dissolve into giggles. You’re not far behind, and it isn’t long before Huening is glaring at the two of you and miming zipping his lips shut.

The two of you make your way out of the library still giggling, but right outside the library doors, Jake asks if he can walk you home. There’s a shy, boyish look on his face when he asks; it stirs up that strange, stumbling desire in you again.

“I really don’t live that far,” you murmur.

“I’m trying to get my steps in,” he jokes. He knows you saw him running back and forth across the field for two hours during practice today.

“I really don’t live that far,” you repeat, already starting in the direction of your apartment. When you don’t hear him follow, you turn around and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you coming? Can’t have the star player missing his steps.”

He grins and catches up to you quickly, and then he spends the next ten minutes badgering you for more compliments. You have never felt so warm on the walk home.

Just as promised, you let MJ come to the next home game. It’s your first game as an assistant manager, so between keeping an eye on MJ and keeping an eye on your actual responsibilities, you’re pretty frazzled before the game even starts.

You’re settling MJ into a spot on the bleachers when someone taps your shoulder. You turn around to gasp at the sight of Jake. “Your hair!” The jet-black strands are no more; his hair is now a silvery-tinged blonde.

His smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Team bonding thing we do every year. Jay did it for me this time, though, so it looks better than it normally does.” He crouches down to MJ’s seated level. “Hey, buddy, be kind and stay put for your sister, alright? She’s got a big job today.”

MJ stands up and nods solemnly, then salutes Jake with two fingers that turn into finger guns. The whole display is so ridiculously adorable that everyone around you in the bleachers laughs.

Jake repeats the gesture back at MJ through his own giggles before straightening up and turning to you. “Feeling nervous?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Nah, the playing is easy. Well, it’s not easy, but it’s second nature. I actually find it harder watching from the sidelines, not having any control over the action.” He peers closer at you. “Are you nervous, assistant manager?”

“A little,” you admit. “I still feel like I don’t know much about soccer.”

“MJ could explain everything to you, right?” Jake high-fives your brother. “Sadly, he can’t be with you on the sidelines, but do you see that cat-looking guy over there?”

You squint in the direction Jake points in— a group of his teammates milling around on the sidelines. The cat-looking guy sports amateur-ish frosted tips which make you suppress a chuckle, but he’s easy enough to spot. “Yep, I see him. And the consequences of not having Jay around to dye your hair.”

Jake lets loose a burst of tiny giggles. “He tried his best, okay? And his name is Jungwon. Freshman with a lot of potential, but he sprained his ankle yesterday, so he’s sitting a few games out. He can tell you anything you want to know during the game.” Jake holds his pinky out to you. “You’ll be just fine. I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

You’re speechless as you nod and wrap your pinky around his. It’s not clear to whose benefit this promise is, but your heart is tap-dancing in your chest at the realization that he came up to the bleachers just to reassure you about the game and ask to see you later.

He releases your pinky and is halfway down the bleachers before you muster up your words to yell at his back, “Good luck!”

When he turns around, he’s beaming. “Don’t need it! You’re here, aren’t you?” Then he’s off to be with his team, and there are people whispering all around you, but all you can do is smile stupidly after him.

“You guys are acting weird,” MJ declares.

“So weird,” Sunghoon agrees.

His sudden appearance makes you yelp. “Sunghoon? When did you get here?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just in time to see that whole display.” He points his thumb behind him. “Yizhuo’s just getting snacks from the car. I know you wanted her to watch MJ during the game— do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to see Jake exercise authority as captain, anyways. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“Knock yourself out. Hey, MJ, this is Sunghoon, one of Jake and Yizhuo’s friends. He’s on the tennis team, so don’t give him too much of a hard time for doing that instead of soccer, okay?” You ruffle MJ’s hair. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you after the game. Be kind!”

“I know!”

Down at the sidelines, you meet Jungwon and the rest of the players not in the field today. You’re tentative at first about asking Jungwon questions, but you find that he’s an enthusiastic— and entertaining— commentator. It isn’t long before the other players are clamoring to give you the low-down on what’s happening out on the field, as well as all the latest team gossip.

“... and that’s why Jisung’s girlfriend is ignoring him,” Sohee explains as the first half of the game comes to an end.

“Should you be telling me this?” You laugh, but the question is somewhat genuine.

Beomgyu pats your shoulder. “There are no secrets on the team, and you’re part of the team now!”

“There are no secrets on the team because everyone is a nosy little shit,” Jake says loudly from behind you.

As one, you and the other players turn to face him.

“Heeeeeeey, cap’n!” Jungwon salutes him with a cheeky grin.

Jake eyes him with suspicion. “You’re not scaring off our new assistant manager, are you? We just got her.”

Mischief glints in Jungwon’s eyes. “Absolutely not. We were just telling her about Jisung’s girlfriend. We can move on to talking about the girl you stare at in the library, instead, if that’s better—”

Jake shuts him up with a (light) slap over the head. “No need, thanks!” The blush blooming over his cheeks is not lost on the team, who giggle like schoolchildren.

“The staring really is famous,” you muse out loud.

“I just came over here to make some substitutions,” Jake huffs. Then, like he can’t help it, he shoots you a small smile. “You doing alright?”

You salute him like Jungwon did. “No complaints, captain.” To your delight, he appears flustered by the title coming out of your mouth.

“O-Okay, so Beomgyu, you’re gonna sub in. Wonbin, too, and…”

The second half of the game goes by in a flash; before you know it, Jake has assisted Beomgyu in scoring the final goal, and your team wins 2-1. The crowd is jubilant, and you’re more animated about the win than you had expected. You join in on all the cheering and applauding with enthusiasm to rival that of MJ, whose screeches of delight you can hear all the way down the bleachers.

You can’t even try to look for Jake at first— every player seems to have welcomed you into their hearts now, so you’re bombarded with a chorus of congratulatory hollers and See you tomorrow! and Thanks for the advice! as they gradually leave the field.

You’re reassuring Anton that it’s not embarrassing to go to the writing tutors at the library for help when Sunghoon and Yizhuo approach with MJ skipping in between them. Anton thanks you profusely before running off to the locker room, and then MJ is talking your ear off about how cool the game was. In between his exclamations, you thank Sunghoon and Yizhuo for staying with him.

“MJ’s pretty cool. Text me anytime you need someone to hang with him during a game,” Sunghoon offers. “Or Heeseung or Jay. We come to these pretty often, since we’re all on our off seasons right now, so there’s usually one of us here.”

You smile genuinely at him. “That’s really nice of you, Sunghoon. Thank you.”

Yizhuo tsks. “Men do the bare minimum.” She ignores Sunghoon’s half-hearted protests and kisses your cheek in farewell. “We have to go— double date. I’ll see you at home!”

You wave goodbye with equal parts amusement and bemusement, and then you turn to the field. At this point, MJ has run off to play with the few stragglers still kicking a ball around, so you watch them for a few minutes with a content smile on your face.

“Hey.” Jake sidles up to you without a sound and then chuckles when you jump in surprise.

You swat at his shoulder halfheartedly. “You just missed Sunghoon. He and Yizhuo are going on a… double date.”

“With each other? Or, like, they’re each going with someone else?”

“Y’know, it wasn’t clear.”

“Man, I’ll have to interrogate him when he gets back. But besides that… how’d you like the game, lucky?” Jake looks expectantly at you.

“I think I understood, like, 60 percent of the game, which is pretty good if you consider that I was probably at 10 percent before today.” You give him the same look. “What does ‘lucky’ refer to? Is that some kind of soccer slang?”

He looks away and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful and bambi-eyed. “No, it’s just me being dumb, I guess. This is the first game we won this season, and it’s the first one you were at, so you’re like… a lucky charm.”

There are many things you could say. Correlation doesn’t equal causation, for one; every fledgling scientist knows this. And there has only been one other game this season, so your data set is quite sparse to begin with. Instead, all that comes out of your mouth is a slightly skeptical but mostly teasing: “I thought you said you didn’t need luck. And what if I was here and you lost instead?”

“Then I would’ve been lucky just to see you on the sidelines,” Jake murmurs.

You are not usually moved by sentiment. But this one is so sweet and sincere tripping off his tongue, delivered with those warm brown eyes; once again, you’re rendered speechless by Jake Sim.

Beomgyu coughs loudly, thoroughly dispersing the pink clouds you half expect to see floating around you and Jake. “Sorry to interrupt,” Beomgyu snickers. “But I think your brother is ready to go home.” He points to where MJ is slumped over on a bench, eyes droopy and hair sticking to his forehead.

The sight makes you smile fondly. “He’s had a big day. We’ll get going, then. Bye, guys!” You wave to the rest of the players on the field and get a few hollers in return as you and Jake walk over to MJ, who seems to have nodded off completely by now.

He looks so young like this— and so peaceful that you don’t want to wake him. You’re debating how to get MJ home with the least amount of disturbance possible when Jake solves the problem for you by crouching down and putting MJ on his back.

“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

Jake hoists MJ further up on his back and secures his arms under the little boy’s legs. “C’mon, I’ll take him to your car.”

He starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, but you’re stuck in place, struck by the sight of Jake moving so slowly, careful not to disturb MJ’s sleep. Here is this guy you lambasted endlessly in your mind and multiple times to his face, all because of an assumption you made, and he’s holding your brother like a treasure. The sight makes your heart ache with inexplicable tenderness.

Dusk bleeds into night as the stars peek out across a velvet sky, and the poets would say that the stars bear witness to this— the moment when that stumbling, hesitant desire in you begins to bloom into full-bodied love.

But you will not realize this until much later, because the heavens are fickle, and there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

#enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake fic #jake oneshot #fic: though the stars walk backward #ss.fic

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imagine-silk · 1 month ago

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Could you do the Fallout 4 fellas (especially Preston and Nick) and how they might care for/fuss over sole survivor when they’re sick/injured. Who makes soup for them, who makes tea? Who cuddles them, who brings extra blankets?

Thank u <3

》I needed something fluffy. This is all under the understanding you are at full affinity with them but not specifically romanced.

》Hey, so something came up. Don't be surprised if I don't post regularly. I was planning to but something came up. Please stay patient.

【Codsworth】 "We'll get you right as rain."

He knows exactly how to handle this and he has no shame about it. He's already cooking your meals so now he just changes it to broth and crackers, both fresh of course. He also demands he change and bathe you before tucking you back into bed. Everyone who goes to see you can only do so for about ten minutes before being ushered out the room. He does take any help anyone offers but they are on a short leash.

【Danse】 "Go to the medical bay. I will not ask you again." ➣ "We should get you quarantine. I'd be willing to oversee it."

When he's in the Brotherhood he has no patience or empathy to SoSu's struggle. If they're sick that's not his problem or his responsibility, that' why clinics exist. After it all though he has his eyes open and can see the discomfort and suffering they are going through because of a simple cold. He can see every shiver and shake, ache and cough, all up close, he can even touch it. He can't remember if he had ever gotten sick but all he knows is people shouldn't expose others to sickness so they would most likely need to quarantine. For anyone else he wouldn't volunteer himself but if it's for SoSu he would, even if he was able to get sick. He'd like it to be him to take care of them just this once.

【Deacon】 "Aww, let mama take care of you."

Of course he takes the matter unseriously serious. Under all the bravado and jokes he is legitimately worried. He's seen people get worse but he holds out hope it will always stay better. And come on, it's the SoSu, nothing can take them down. And he is constantly around them with no fear of getting sick. If he does he won't ever show it. He'll either hold it in or play it off as mocking them, saying he was acting to get a rise out of them. The famous 'got ya' or 'aww you do care' which both get the job done. The chances they find out for sure he's lying is very very low.

【Hancock】 "Come here. We'll get ya better."

Surprisingly one of the least concerned persons. He can't get sick on the account of the radiation pumping all around his body, it doesn't allow anything viral or bacteria to live very long. That said he also remembers being sick and he remembers it being not too bad. He was always able to bounce back so you should be fine. All that said, because he can't get sick he will cuddle them the entire time. He's not the best nurse to have but he's affectionate and that counts for something. Not to mention the people of Goodneighbor throwing in whatever they can do to help.

【MacCready】 "Don't even think about it."

Every time Duncan got sick he wanted to play outside and tried to sneak out. MacCready got very good at finding his son and wrangling him back inside. If they think he won't give them the same treatment they're sorely mistaken. He will manhandle this grown ass adult who wants to continue helping people into bed like he would his son. He has a great immune system because of all the dirty places he's been but he could get sick. This is where he starts being hypocritical because he will keep going and tell them he can because he's used to it but they came from a time you didn't have to do that so 'rules for thee but not for me'. Cry about it.

【Nick】 "Something finally took you down. Huh, never thought I see the day."

After he has his fun and teases they he will close up shop to take care of them. He'll tell Ellie he's caved in and is going to take a break when really he's just doing another job, taking care of his friend. Because he can't get sick he'll let them cough and sneeze all they want, saying 'bless you' every time. They are allowed to lay on him but only if he's has a thick blanket in between so they don't get anything sharp poking at them. When it's all done he disinfects his office before reopening.

【Preston】 "I'll stay inside with you."

The man famous for staying outside no matter what happens, rain, hail, bullets, he will be on the front lines of it all, he is willing to put that down for them. His closest compatriot inconvenient suffering is important to him. If they were shot in the leg or something of that nature he'd probably still be out there because he can't really help them besides coming back to check on them, but a sick person needs constant care and he will never let them be given anything less. Sure it's not ideal for the General to not be running around as their posterboy but the General has never been meant to run around so they will live.

【X6】 "Sir/Ma'am, go see the doctor." ➣ "I'll do that for you."

He's not particularly worried for them when the Institute is still around. With their help they will be better in a matter of minutes. In an hour it will be like they were never sick in the first place. But after they're gone he is freaking out. His immune system in cranked up into overdrive all the time to the point it would be impossible for him to get sick, but for normal people... they can die. For the first time, Sanctuary sees him more demanding than he's ever been. He demands the doctor, whether or not it's Curie. He demands food for them, easy to wash down. He demands clean blankets and pillows, when they throw up he demands clean clothes. He'll feed them, clothe them, he will fucking bathe them if it comes to it. He is absolutely terrified because the barbaric disgusting surface is full of germs and not full of medicine.

#ask and you shall receive #fallout 4 #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #gender neutral reader #companions react #male companions

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dreamingofep · 10 months ago

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 20.1 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! It's late but I had to post this now.🤭 I've been busy writing this next part and it was getting WAY too long so I had to make the hard decision of cutting it into two parts. The word count was over 10k and I hadn't even edited it yet🫣 I'll have the second half of this chapter up in a few days so you won't have to wait too long to see what happens next. I hope you enjoy this next part!

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!

The last few days felt like a total blur. You would give anything to go back up to the penthouse, get no cleaning done, and fight how much sexual tension there was brewing between you and Elvis. In your mind, none of this nightmarish stuff has ever happened to you but every time you close your eyes, it replays over and over on a loop and you can’t stay away from it. You had a hard time sleeping even though you were mentally exhausted. Elvis urged you to get some rest and that he’d be there the whole time to protect you. You were still scared though. Still scared Raphael had you in his grasp and wouldn’t let you go.

You finally get released from the hospital even though your doctor insisted you stay long for testing because he grew quite concerned about those mysterious bite marks on your body. Elvis convinced them to not worry and released you right away. Before you knew it, you were on a plane headed for Memphis.

You were still pretty groggy and ached when you moved too much. You were carried onto Elvis’ private plane and placed gently on the bed in the back of it. Blankets were placed over you and you gladly pulled them closer to your body. You couldn’t stop shivering and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was just your body in shock. Elvis lays in the bed with you and pulls you close, pressing your body into his and you yelp in discomfort. A sharp rush of pain grew where his hand was laid across your torso. You didn’t understand why it hurt so much right there.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks panicked.

You close your eyes and take a sharp breath in.

“It hurts. It hurts when you touch me here,” you whisper, knowing that it doesn’t sound right coming from your lips. You turn over to plead with your eyes for him to understand.

His eyes grow with a look of hurt, not liking what you said. He slowly retracts his hands and looks over your body lying there.

“I’m sorry baby. I should have known. I can feel how much your body aches,” he says sorrowfully, “please rest honey. We’ll be home in no time.”

You do as he says and by the time you wake up, you both are landing in Memphis. It was a short drive from the airport to Graceland and he held your hand the entire time in the back seat of his limo. It was cold this time of year and you could feel the cold from the windows of the car.

You see a group of people waiting outside the gates of Graceland and they all scream and shout when they see the limo pull up. Elvis just smiles and waves at them, not stopping to sign any autographs. He looks worried at you as the car drives up the long winding driveway. The limo pulls to the side of the house and makes a gentle stop. Elvis helps you get out of the car, carefully picking you up, and carrying you inside. A few maids and cooks were waiting to greet him when he stepped through the doors, but their smiles soon faded into looks of concern when they saw you weak in his arms.

“Can you please make some soup for her? And make sure no one comes into our room. Just leave the food at the door please,” he says gently. They nod their heads quickly and go to the kitchen.

He takes you up the white staircase and leads you to the double doors of the master suite. It was low-lit, a lot like his suite in Vegas. Black and red tapestry hung in the room and gold fixtures hung on the wall. He places you down in the soft lush bed and quickly drapes a blanket over you. You look up at him and see how he wants to comfort you in some way but is too afraid of touching you. Your heart aches for him. You hated seeing how he

“Are you comfortable honey?”

You nod your head at him and smile sweetly at him. Something about being here in his house was very comforting. The house felt very still and warm. You always expected his house to be lively and loud but based on how you’re feeling, he probably didn’t want that for you.

There was a soft knock at the door and Elvis went to grab the food left at the door. He helped you eat some of the chicken soup and it did taste really good. You don’t remember eating much food in the hospital as your stomach was either nauseous or the food tasted awful and you refused to eat it. You eat a good portion of the soup now and look at him longingly. There was so much pain written across his face. You hated to see him like this, but you knew it was only because of what happened to you that he was feeling like this. You wish you could convince him that you’re okay and not going to perish by just one look.

A heavy silence fills his room and he carefully picks up your hand to hold it. He places a gentle kiss on the top of it and sighs.

“How do you feel baby?”

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

“You’ll get better every day, don’t you worry.”

You give him a reassuring smile, hoping that he is telling the truth.

“Do you remember anything from that night baby? What was the last thing you remember?” He asks gently.

You nod your head, “yes…. I remember Raphael biting me and the door burst open… that’s about it,” you say hoarsely.

His face drops and he grows worried. You grow concerned and don’t understand why he’s giving this reaction.

“Why? What happened?” You ask.

He shakes his head at you and breathes in deeply. “I’ll tell you another day honey,” he says shortly.

You sigh in protest, wanting to know what had happened. You hated when he tried to deflect from any problems you were facing.

“Fine,” you say slowly getting out of bed. You’re able to walk fine but you feel aches and pains shot through your body, especially your neck.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?” He asks.

“I’m just going to take a shower and get out of your way since you don’t want to talk to me.” You say shortly.

“Honey, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to overwhelm you. Let me help you at least. You’re still pretty weak,” he advises, “let me draw a bath for you and help you. Please, honey, understand that this isn’t easy for me to see you like this.”

You sigh, frustrated with everything but understand he’s only trying to help you. You felt bad he had to watch you in the hospital for those few days unable to do anything.

“Okay, I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you say softly.

Elvis gets up off the bed and walks over to the bathroom, flipping the light switch on. You sit back down in the bed and wait for the tub to fill up and for Elvis to come back to get you.

After a few moments, he emerges from the bathroom and helps you walk over. The cold marble made you shiver and hoped the bath water was warm enough to warm your shivering body. For the first time in days, you look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. You had on an oversized T-shirt you didn’t recognize and some soft sweatpants. A large brown bandage was plastered across your neck as well as your wrists.

You glance up at Elvis and watch where his gaze is drawn, how it stares lasers at your covered wounds. He can’t hide the fact that he was disgusted by the sight of the damage Raphael caused and spurts of anger were felt coming off of him.

He carefully brushes your hair to one side of your shoulder and gently puts his hand on your arm.

“We have to take off these bandages baby. I’ll be gentle and clean them for you,” he says sweetly.

You nod your head and part of you doesn’t want to see them become uncovered. But you knew you had to face the reality of your situation sooner rather than later. His cold fingertips lightly graze your neck, giving you goosebumps. He carefully pulls the bandage off and you wince. You watch as he slowly reveals your wound to you, how it’s red and blue and ached terribly. You can see the perfect indentation of his teeth in your neck and how deep his fangs really went. You felt like crying, all of this was too overwhelming. But you tried to pull it together as you had other bandages left to uncover.

You didn’t want to look at Elvis’ eyes and how hurt they must look. That would for sure make you crumble. He moves into your wrists, taking off those bandages but you decide not to look at them. You already saw how those looked at the house.

“Okay baby, can you lift your arms so I can help you get out of this shirt?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you say.

He nods his head and takes off your shirt, then followed by your sweatpants. You look back at your body in the mirror and another bandage is on your chest, tummy, and one on the inside of your upper thigh. Your eyes shoot a panicked look at Elvis, not remembering how these happened. He doesn’t look at you right away, he is focused on removing them and trying not to hurt you. He kneels down on his knees and removes each one. This explains why it hurt so much on the plane when he pulled you in to lay next to you.

Each bite mark looked worse than the last. You finally let out all the tears you were holding back. You push at his chest and turn your back to Elvis, gasping in between sobs.

“Don’t look at me, please. I’m disgusting,” you whimper.

“No baby, no that’s not true. You don’t need to hide from me. Come on, let’s get you in the tub,” he says softly. You feel him take your hand and lead you to the water.

The water was perfect temperature and the warm water soothed your body instantly. You lay back and wince once your bite marks emerge in the water. The wounds burned and you had to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

He gently washes your hair, massaging your head and relieving some pent-up stress. He was being so tender with you. Not that you didn’t think he had that side, he had showed you that side of him a few times. But he was normally so dominant, so in control of everything, you loved this side of him and how he was treating you.

He goes to get a clean wash cloth and lathers some soap on it. He was gentle as a feather as his hand washed your body, making sure not to make your wounds hurt more. You look down at the wash cloth and see red stains staring to appear on it. Little dribbles of blood started leaking out of your bite marks and you hold your breath. Your skin was so fragile that the slightest thing was opening the wounds again. You look up at him panicked, not wanting him to endure this torture.

“Elvis, you don’t have to do this,” you whimper.

He licks his bottom lip, eying the drop of blood falling down from your neck and down onto your breast in a slow teardrop. He takes a deep breath before wanting to speak, his eyes lighting up with hunger, and he swallows harshly. You don’t know when the last time he fed but you can only assume it was when he fed from you over a week ago. Your finger swipes up the blood and gathers it on your finger, slowly putting it to his lips. He grunts as you’re inches away from his mouth.

“No, baby, I’m okay,” he sighs, looking away from you. You take your other hand and place it on his chin, moving his face to look back in your direction.

“Taste it, baby,” you sigh. His dark eyes meet yours and he opens his mouth slightly, allowing your slender finger to enter his mouth. His lips close and you feel his tongue lick the pad of your finger and sigh deeply. He closes his eyes and swirls his tongue around your finger then pulls his head away. You couldn’t help but sigh when you watched him taste you, completely turned on just watching him getting to enjoy you.

He gently takes your hand and kisses the back of it, taking a deep breath of your scent.

“Thank you, you didn’t need to do any of that. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you remember?” He says cheekily.

“I know, just thought why let it go to waste,” you say shyly.

“You’re too good to me.” He says softly, rubbing your arms with the washcloth. You know it’s not easy for him though. No matter what control he might possess right now, he still wanted your blood an ungodly amount. He glides the washcloth across your breast, cleaning off the rest of the trickling blood that came out. You couldn’t imagine how hard this was for him to do, letting your blood go to waste and just wash it away. His face was well-controlled and very focused on not hurting you. You take a sharp breath in, feeling the pain that comes with him touching you like this. Your skin stung as he washed your body and only the sound of your breathing and the small water droplets falling off of you was heard.

“Can you stand up now baby? So I can wash your legs?” He asks.

You nod your head and grab onto his shoulder to maintain your balance. Nerves rushed through you as your naked body stood in front of him, battered and scarred. You felt more exposed than you had ever felt in your life. You didn’t want him to see you like this, especially when the marks were so evident on you. You could only imagine what was going on in his head as he got a closer look at them.

He drops the washcloth in the sudsy water, his fingers trembling as he runs them up along your leg and onto your thigh.

“Oh God,” he mutters. You look down at the mark on your thigh and that one looks the worse. You didn’t need to look at it for long and it made you sick that they could do this to you. Elvis let out a pent-up sigh and you could tell he was angry. The more he inspected your contused figure, the more you could tell he couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You gently push his chin up to look at you, tears filling your eyes. “Honey, please don’t look too long. I can’t see you like this,” you plead. His jaw clenches and he grunts, not saying anything back.

He finishes washing your body without saying a word and quickly grabs you a towel and drapes it over your shoulders. He grabs a fluffy robe from behind the door and helps you in it. You walk back into the bedroom and crawl back into bed. The bite on your thigh made walking uncomfortable and sitting down even harder too. Every move you made opened the wound back up, causing blood to leak from it. You put pressure on it with your hand over the robe, naively thinking that will help the scent of you from lingering in the room. You look back at Elvis as you realize he didn’t follow you into the bedroom. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, looking down at the floor sullenly.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?” You say confused.

“I’m sorry for all of this. You should have never had to go through this,” he sighs defeated, not looking in your direction.

Your emotions were on the brink of collapse and you wanted to cry again.

“Baby, please, come here,” you beg. He walks slowly to the bed and leaves space in between you two.

You grab at his wrist to make him look at you.

“This isn’t your doing, Elvis. You weren’t the one that hurt me. You’re not responsible for their actions,” you try to reason.

“I should have been there… I should have gotten to you sooner and got you out of there quicker. I’m so sorry honey please forgive me,” he pleads.

“You have nothing to be forgiven for. You haven’t done anything wrong,” You assure him by rubbing his hand gently, “But please, tell me how these other marks happened. I don’t remember them happening at all. I need to know.”

Elvis scoots closer to you and lets out a deep breath before speaking. He goes to reach out for your chest, lightly grazing your skin that’s showing from the robe. Your skin instantly gets goosebumps as he touches you.

“When I got there… Raphael was biting your neck, making you scream in agony like I’ve never heard before. It was painful even for me to watch…I pulled him off of you and you hit the floor, your body weak and frail. That’s when some of his men came from upstairs and tried to get me away from him.”

“They held me back briefly, but it was enough time for him to get back to you and take another bite… right here,” he says as he touches your chest. You look down at his finger slightly shaking as he touches you.

“Then I broke free from their grasp, running to Raphael and pulling him off of you as quickly as I could. His teeth tore into your skin so badly though… I dragged him outside and… did what I had to do.” He says through his teeth. He looks back at you and falters his gaze instantly.

“By the time I got back inside, Daniel was feeding off of you… biting you here and here,” he says touching your tummy and then slowly trailing his hand down to the inside of your thigh, lifting the robe to expose the bite mark.

Your heart sinks, feeling disgusted Daniel ever touched you in the first place.

“Oh God,” you whimper, tears filling your eyes again. You pull the blanket on the bed, covering your body to shield him from your bite marks.

“They were all taken care of honey, they’ll never hurt you again.”

“Why? Why did they do this? They caused such damage,” you sniffle.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, not liking to see you like this.

“They weren’t good men honey. They always had ill intentions when it came to you. I might never really know why they fed so aggressively, but I have a feeling they did it out of pure spite. To show me that they got their way with feeding on you while I didn’t. That they chose to bite those particular places on you because… they knew I’d always see their marks in the most intimate of places on you.”

That felt like a punch in the gut. It made you sick and angry that they would ever dare think of such a thing.

“I’m sorry. Elvis, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop them, I really tried. They threatened me they were going to compel me to forget you. I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have you taken away from me like that,” you sob uncontrollably.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, soothing you through your cries and rubbing your head gently.

“Baby, baby don’t be sorry. I understand. You had to make unthinkable decisions and I couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like,” he says gently, kissing the top of your head, taking a deep breath in of your scent.

“It was awful, they were so mean to me. He told me, that having a Chosen wasn’t real. He said you were lying to me just to keep me to yourself.” You cry. He pulls his body away from you to look at you.

“No, honey. No, he was lying to you. I’d never lie to you about something like that baby. You’re mine,” he says exasperated.

You watch as his eyes start to turn dark, the pools of blue starting to bleed red. You pull your head away from him, scared of thirsty eyes in your face all the time these last few days. He winces, closes his eyes, and tries to gain back control.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you. I’m just upset with what they did to you and what they told you,” he says frustratedly, getting up off the bed and taking a few deep breaths before looking over at you, “You still believe me don’t you? That we are meant for each other?” He says weakly.

“Yes… I do,” you say softly, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Good,” he says, “I can’t live without you, baby. It nearly killed me to see you like that. I know we’re not fully bonded, but I… I could feel your pain. It hurt me so I couldn’t imagine how bad it felt for you, I’m just so sorry.”

“I didn’t know that was possible…”

“I didn’t either. I was on stage that night you got taken and I sensed something was wrong, but I blamed it on my nerves. Then I felt this shooting pain in my wrist. I haven’t experienced an ounce of pain since I’ve gotten bit. That's when I knew, it had to be you that was in pain and in trouble. I lost it. I went on a blind rampage and was yelling for you, trying to see if I could pick up your scent.”

“But I couldn’t. I was too blind to notice they took you. They took you right in front of me and they laughed about it. I felt like an idiot,” he seethed.

“But you found me, that’s all that matters now. You can’t live replaying the past and torturing yourself over what you could have done. I’m here now baby. You saved me,” you say exasperated.

He gives you this look of doubt like there was more to this story he was keeping from you.

“What? What is it?” You ask.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. And you’re right. I have you now and that’s all that matters,” he says solemnly, shooting his eyes away from you as he speaks. He gets up off the bed and starts toward the door, giving him a confused look as he suddenly needs to go.

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask.

“I’m going to take care of some things downstairs. I’ll come and check on you in a bit, he says sweetly with a smile.

“Okay, I-,” your brain freezes and your heart shudders in your ribcage.

I love you, your brain screams, wishing you had the courage to say it loud.

“I’ll call for you if I need anything,” you say with a convincing smile. He nods his head and leaves you alone in the cold, empty bed.

Elvis runs downstairs and heads into the bathroom and quickly shuts the door. He looks into the mirror and sees his blood-red eyes look back at him.

You fucking pathetic, disgusting creature, he thinks looking in the mirror

Your woman is upstairs hurting and all you can think of is how good her blood tastes? Jesus, you’re vile.

He was starving and having to be around your open wounds was torture. He hadn’t eaten for over a week and it was starting to get to him. That last time he fed was from you and that spoiled him. It made him want only your blood from now on, nothing else would do.

He wanted you to feel better and get back to normal. But he couldn’t lie to himself… things were going to take a while to get back to normal. Not after everything you endured and what he wanted to do to you…

Stop no, it’s because you love her. You love her so irrevocably, you can’t live without her and that’s why you thought of doing that life-altering thing. You vowed you would give her the choice when the time came, he thinks.

Elvis squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out those thoughts. He knew there was blood in his fridge and was going to have to drink it whether he liked it or not if he wanted to be around you while you were recouping. He lets out a soft groan and turns to go to the kitchen. There wasn’t anyone down here this late at night so he didn’t have to hide what he was about to do.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a blood bag from the top shelf. Walking over to the sink, he cusses under his breath, wishing he could have an ounce of control when it came to blood. Even though you had only been in the house for less than an hour, your scent was everywhere and beckoning him to go back upstairs with you. He made all his men stay somewhere else tonight. He didn’t want them near you as your wounds were still healing and open with the temptation of your blood swirling in the air. All he wanted to do was nuzzle into the crook of your neck and breathe in the scent of you. He wanted to hear how melodious your heart sounded when you lay there sleeping. But even that seemed like it was too much for him. He would have to fight taking a taste of your blood that pooled underneath the surface of your bite marks. He curses at himself and angrily closes the fridge.

He held the bag in his hand and wasn’t patient enough to open the blood bag properly. No, he was so hungry and wanted any blood to satiate him for a little while and be able to go back upstairs with you. He felt his fangs emerge and he sunk them into the bag, greedily gulping down the blood. He squeezed it tightly, forcing more blood to flow into his mouth, and groaned. He couldn’t help but picture you now as he fed, wishing he was drinking from your perfect body.

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do. This tasted like the most bland thing he’s ever had but at least it would calm his appetite. He sucks the last drop of blood out of the bag and throws the plastic bag in the trash. Going back to the sink to wipe his face clean, Elvis gruffly groans, upset at all the events that you’ve been put through lately. He wished he could fix them all and take your pain away. There was a way to… but he wouldn’t do that to you.

Not yet.

He knew this was part of his instincts he couldn’t control. If anything, it just further solidifies that you are in fact his Chosen. That every cell in his body screamed to make you his and protect you for life.

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog. @myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything . @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista @oldh0llyw0od @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #70s elvis #vampire elvis #sinned awakening #elvisaaronpresley #fanfiction

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gemapples · 11 months ago

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see you in 2024 💗💗

very personal ramble about my year and experiences, etc. under the cut. kind of neg just a warning but if anyone would be willing to read it the whole way through i'd appreciate it so so much

2023 was certainly... a year for me. had many highs but a Ton of lows, went forward one step but took two steps back. i'd be lying if i said i didnt struggle and know what to do for a lot of it

i did get to meet and even become friends with people i look up to, got to learn new things i didn't know before. and one of the problems i noticed throughout this year is i spent way more time than i needed to focusing on my usefulness for others and what i can do for people rather than prioritizing myself and my mental health. i think a lot of problems i experienced in 2023 was due to me getting too caught up in how i'm perceived by others (especially on social media like tumblr). for 2024 i want to work on this and be sure to put myself first in every situation and be the best person i see myself as -- not overdo it for the sake of others. i'm going to try being more straightforward with myself and how i choose to approach people. i want to be more involved in this fandom and get to know more people who love kirby better rather than just hiding away and watching from the side like i have for many years, waiting for them to approach me first at some point. i made a lot of progress on this a lot in 2023 but i could always be better :')

regardless though, i wouldn't have been nearly as ready to get back on track if it weren't for the support you all have given me throughout this year. august and september were two of the worst months i've ever experienced; i won't get into it (if you know you know), but goddd was it harder than i can even describe. i've never had to go through something that resulted in me questioning my Entire artistic ability, my whole worth, and whether everything i've grown and learned from is just completely fake. i couldn't look at my work and all of my social medias without being completely disgusted and disappointed with myself. i'm in art student too, so you can imagine how fucking hard it was to balance and muscle through that as well lol. it was nothing but hell. if i didn't get the support i did from everyone, i can say with full confidence i wouldn't have been able to pick up my pencil phone and get back to drawing Nearly as quickly as i did. in fact, i probably would still be deeply effected by it and not have the motivation to continue posting for at least a long while. so i seriously can't thank you enough for that. all the words i was told still stick with me to this day and gave me a reason to keep pushing and learn to better understand myself

im tearing up as i write this so i'll have to cut it short LOL but i want to express how deeply it means to me that through all the conflict i've experienced throughout this year, you guys were there for me and were so generous to offer your time to support me and help me out. knowing i make at least one person smile and enjoy what i post is enough for me. hopefully 2024 will be easier on the emotional rollercoasters, i think all of us could use a long break from chaos really lol

thanks for everything and i love you

-mac

#i dont like being this vulnerable on main but yeah #thank you and happy 2024

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crowfootwrites · 4 months ago

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Devotion & Diplomacy - Part VII

Hi hello! Apologies for the like, 6 month hiatus. I want to promise it won't happen again, but really, it's not a money-back guarantee. 😅 I'm very excited to post this chapter and hopefully get the rest of them out in short order, as there are only 11 total! So we're almost there! Shit's about to get really real in this story, too, so I'm practically vibrating (though that might be the coffee).

Tagging my usuals: @horta-in-charge, @starrynightgardens, @sleepycat82, @vreenak, and @deepspacedukat 😘

Warnings: lots of political tension and discussions of occupations, obviously; general Cardassian douchebaggery; some fluff that fades to black in the beginning | Words: ~3,415

The distinctly ashy golden light of Cardassia’s sun filtered through the thin window coverings in Daro’s bedroom, and Emrys stirred. The light on this planet always reminded her of some old Earth photos she’d once seen of the sky during “wildfire seasons”, before fire suppression systems were so readily accessible, and as she found herself lying in a room bathed in dusky light, she was hit by a sudden pang of homesickness.

She rolled over languidly, searching for Daro, but the bed was empty. Today was a day of rest on Cardassia, meaning she had a rare day off. She was sorely tempted to stay in bed, but the appeal was lost with Daro nowhere to be seen. Stretching, she pulled herself out of his bed, wincing at some soreness between her thighs and tightness in her muscles. She went to swipe Daro’s shirt from the day before off the floor to tug on, when she heard a content hum coming from the doorway.

She glanced up to see a smiling Daro leaning leisurely against the doorframe with two mugs in his hands.

“I could get used to this view,” he murmured. Clad in only a pair of his thin sleep pants, Emrys took a moment to appreciate his broad chest, the pattern of his scales and ridges beginning to feel familiar already.

“I could say the same,” she volleyed back, her eyebrow piqued in interest.

Daro chuckled, moving into the room before handing her a mug. Dropping his shirt back to the ground, she took her cup and crawled back into bed with it. He followed her lead, settling himself beside her in the soft sheets and resting his back against the headboard. It was the most relaxed Emrys had ever seen him. She curled up against his chest and sipped her tea quietly.

“You don’t have to report to Central today, correct?” Daro asked, resting his cheek against the crown of her head.

“Blessedly, no,” she said with a quiet huff of laughter. Her mood soured slightly as she realized what the next meeting would be like - the next topic on the table was Bajor, one that was sure to fan the flames that characterized nearly every treaty session they’ve had over the past several months.

Daro noticed the slight change in her demeanor and shifted, lifting her chin with a finger so he could study her. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “I know it’s counterproductive to spend time off worrying about the next time I have to go to work, and I don’t intend to dwell on it for long, but… I was just thinking about our next session. If I had to guess, it’ll likely get very ugly.”

“What points will you have to discuss?” he asked curiously, tucking her head back under his chin.

She hesitated, prepared to dance around the question as so often had to when meeting with Central Command, or other Cardassians in general. But this was Daro. He’d already made it clear that he disapproved of many of his government’s decisions, although Emrys would never share that with anyone else.

She took a bracing sip of tea before setting it on the small table beside the bed. “The Occupation.”

“Ah,” Daro responded quietly above her.

“The Federation won’t sign a treaty as long as Cardassia continues to occupy Bajor,” she noted.

“Understandably,” he agreed.

Emrys breathed a laugh. “I wish everyone in power here thought like you.” She traced patterns absentmindedly along his chest. “I think I’m mostly concerned because I’ve been given so little to work with. It seems ridiculous to even have to say that - there shouldn’t have to be any bargaining to end a literal occupation, but to Ziven and the rest of Central Command, controlling Bajor is paramount. They won’t give it up, even though we know it’s costing them a fortune, and rather than recognize just how hard Cardassians will fight to keep their place on Bajor and give me something to negotiate with, my superiors believe that the Ziven will just… I don’t know, bow to my will. I suppose I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, how I’m going to handle it.”

Daro remained silent above her and, unable to see his expression, Emrys worried that she’d offended him somehow. She lifted her fingers from his chest but before she could move away, he’d grasped them in his hand and placed them back against his skin, pressing her hand flat to his chest beneath his.

“I am immensely sorry that you are having to fight with them about this. We… we should have never gone to Bajor,” Daro murmured, his hushed voice full of regret as his thumb rubbed slowly against the lip of his mug. “The people on Cardassia had little knowledge of what was really going on – the Central Command painted a very different picture of the Occupation. They still do, really.” He paused, his eyes unfocused on the wall before them. Instinctively, Emrys adjusted her hand on his chest to intertwine their fingers together. Daro’s gaze followed the movement, his heart heavy in his chest.

“I appreciate,” he began gently, shifting so he could look in her eyes again, “that you do not judge every man for the actions of others. I am certain I don’t deserve that kindness.” His fingers tightened around hers for a moment. “I carry a great deal of shame for what has been done, and my part in it.”

Emrys recalled what he’d said to her when they first met. We all carry things with us that we’d sooner forget.

“Central Command,” he continued, “has always had a way of telling parts of the story, painting part of the picture, twisting facts and situations. That way, they can convince you to think and believe whatever they want. There are… many terrible things that I was a part of because we weren’t given all of the information, or because Central Command had lied to us. But even in those times when I wasn’t involved directly, or when, afterward, we’d discovered how they’d used us- I remained silent when I shouldn’t have. And I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Emrys guided their clasped hands toward her, placing a soft kiss on the back of Daro’s. “If you hadn’t, it’s very likely you wouldn’t be here with me now. And for that, I’m very grateful.”

A somber smile crossed Daro’s face as he contemplated the woman in front of him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to wind up with this merciful, lovely human in his arms, but he knew in that moment he’d do anything to keep her.

Determined not to ruin their day, Emrys gently extricated herself from Daro’s arms and sat cross-legged on the bed facing him.

“What are your plans for today, Glinn?” she asked with an impish grin.

Daro schooled his features into a serious mask before leaning over and setting his cup on the bedside table. Before Emrys could react, he’d shifted onto his knees and pinned her beneath him on the bed. Her initial yelp morphed into an infectious giggle as his lips latched onto her neck. She could feel his smile against her skin between kisses.

“My plans look a great deal like this, irc’lin.”

— — —

Emrys took her usual seat between Romar and Varsek, feeling prepared for the day’s session. Daro’s presence over the last few days had been a source of intense comfort for her, so gratifying that the mere thought of seeing him had the power to get through long days at Central Command. That very morning, she’d woken curled into his reassuring warmth – their sunrise had been colored by tender whispers and lingering touches. They’d had breakfast together and Daro walked with her to the Imperial Plaza before departing with a fervent kiss. Thoroughly lost in thought, Emrys’ fingers brushed fleetingly over her lips as she recalled the greed of his mouth on hers.

“Beck!”

The gruff utterance from Varsek at her side broke through her daze and she shifted in her seat, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. Varsek rolled his eyes and faced forward again, the disapproval in his visage obvious.

Emrys tried to ignore it, knowing that he was likely on edge about the topic the Federation would be bringing to the table today. Just as she was. But unlike Varsek, she couldn’t afford to lose her head. She’d prepared as much as she could. She’d also requested more time to lay the groundwork with Central Command before bringing this particular negotiation point up - that her request had been denied wasn’t her fault. Should today’s session go sideways, she could always politely remind her superiors that she’d solicited a different approach.

Gul-Tar Ziven settled in his seat, his countenance severe and, as always, giving nothing away. His sharp eyes seemed to find Emrys more often than usual as the remainder of his officers seated themselves, and Emrys shifted almost imperceptibly in her seat when she noticed.

“It is my hope that everyone had a restful night.” The rumble of his voice carried over the long conference table. “As discussed when last we met, there are matters of critical importance to be raised today, and it is my sincerest hope that the Federation will be willing to recognize the,” his gaze zeroed in on Emrys, “considerable sacrifices that our great Union has made over the course of these negotiations, and will grant us the few propositions that we are extending today.”

Despite the growing desire to roll her eyes, Emrys maintained composure. Ziven was certainly starting on a bold foot this morning.

“The Federation,” he continued, “denies our legitimate claims of mapping errors which detract from the expansion efforts that the Cardassian Union has worked toward for hundreds of years.” Varsek huffed loudly beside Emrys, a sentiment she shared although she wouldn’t show it – they hadn’t denied anything, they’d simply proven that their claims were unfounded. Ziven argued onward. “Despite this refusal, we are taking under consideration the request to finalize the border as it exists on Federation maps, despite the deleterious effects it will likely have on our nation.”

Emrys generally prided herself on her temperate nature; she was normally slow to anger and mostly unflappable. But almost a year of listening to Ziven make these kinds of arguments was starting to wear on her. “That is very gracious of you, Gul-Tar,” she asserted, her voice carrying strong and even across the room. “I assume that, in exchange for your acquiescence on that point, you would request additional allowances from the Federation on other points.”

She paused, loath to detonate the room as she knew she was about to. “Bajor, perhaps?”

The background hum of people shifting in their chairs and the occasional slide of water glasses against the table died down and a pall of utter silence settled over the room. All eyes darted to Ziven. He sighed dramatically.

“Please understand, Lieutenant Commander,” Ziven offered, an appeasing tone to his voice. Romar hummed quietly beside Emrys, an almost smug sound – Ziven was giving away just how important this objective was for him.

“Cardassia Prime is a planet with limited natural resources. Over the last two centuries, our people have faced famine, disease, and terrible poverty. We survived and came away stronger only because of our expansionist approach – we have successfully welcomed new worlds and new species in, to make a more perfect Union for us all, one in which we all distribute resources amongst each other to ensure the safety and prosperity of all of our citizens.”

Emrys had begun shaking her head before Ziven had even finished speaking. These outright lies were too much, even for Emrys.

“And… the Federation is to believe that the Bajorans you’ve enslaved are safe and prosperous?”

One of Ziven’s eyes twitched – she could see it even from the far end of the table. But she didn’t give him the luxury of time to reply.

“Your continued occupation of Bajor is unacceptable,” Emrys declared, her tone sharp but unwavering. “It is a point of non-negotiation for continued peace with the Federation.”

Ziven opened his mouth to argue, but Emrys barreled onward, her hand held up to silence him. “I am well aware of Cardassia’s reliance on the materials that they… obtain,” she added, attempting to remove most of the derision from her voice, “from Bajor, and the Federation would be willing to help lessen the impacts of this transition with provision of certain resources, but the Federation can not, under any circumstances, remain on peaceful terms with an empire built upon oppression.”

The room was quiet as Emrys finished, but she could feel the tension simmering below every Cardassian chest plate around the table.

“If I may, Gul-Tar,” Emrys ventured, leaning forward slightly in her seat for emphasis. “In addition to the significant cost that I am sure this occupation is creating for the Union, the Federation has received reports that the resistance on Bajor is only growing more fervent. Their continued plight is garnering sympathy from others – some of whom are not quite so diplomatic as the Federation and whom, I would imagine, would be quite happy to supply Bajor with materials needed to give the Union a run for its money.”

“If I recall correctly,” she added with emphasis, “I believe there have even been whispers that the power of the Bajoran Occupational Government is eroding, their stance against their own people softening.”

Ziven’s expression gave nothing away, but Emrys noted the uncomfortable look on the faces of the advisors seated closest to him.

Silence stretched onward, so Emrys opted to move forward with their demands, hoping that her reminder of the ways in which Cardassia’s occupation of Bajor was a greater cost than an asset had been effective.

“In addition to the cessation of the occupation, the Federation would require that the space station Terok Nor be surrend-”

“No.” The Gul-Tar’s voice boomed across the table and Emrys’ mouth snapped shut, her fingers clenched around the arms of her chair.

Not wanting to risk losing ground, Emrys spoke up again. “To which part are you refusing, Gul-Tar?”

“All of it.” He sat rigid in his chair across from Emrys, and she didn’t need Romar at her side to feel the anger coming off of him in waves. Many of the Cardassians seated by him began shooting concerned glances at one another. “The Federation demands too much,” he challenged, a sliver of a threat at the edges of his words.

The Cardassian seated directly to his right, Legate Domat, if Emrys remembered correctly, leaned close to Ziven, murmuring something to his leader before righting himself, his calm visage a sharp contrast to Ziven’s. A strained silence had settled over the room, everyone in attendance waiting with bated breath to see what might come next.

Beside her, Romar shifted in his seat, leaning closer to her as well. “He is reminding the Gul-Tar,” he whispered, “that the Union has expended significant resources in the course of the occupation and war and that they would be at a significant disadvantage in returning to combat with the Federation.” Emrys inclined her head towards Romar, meeting his calm gaze with lifted brow, once again grateful for exceptional Vulcan hearing. She studied her lap for a moment, trying to piece together her next move. With the Cardassians having little to bargain with themselves, she felt her confidence rebuilding.

“Respectfully, Gul-Tar,” she began again, “the Federation has received reports of the working conditions and various… safety hazards on Terok Nor, which only reinforces the Federation’s insistence that Cardassia withdraw from Bajor. Releasing all Bajoran workers from Terok Nor would be a compulsory part of that withdrawal. And what purpose will a refinery station serve with no Bajorans to perform the operations of that station?”

Ziven rose from his seat, despite Legate Domat’s hand on his forearm, perhaps trying to keep him calm. “Perhaps,” Ziven managed through gritted teeth, “you did not understand the gravity of my earlier explanations. Or perhaps… you simply were not listening.” Emrys fought not to roll her eyes and Varsek practically growled beside her.

“Our Union relies on the uranium ore that is mined on Bajor and refined on Terok Nor. In destroying Cardassian efforts to expand and unite new planets with our Union, the Federation will be condemning innocent Cardassian citizens to the suffering of our past - to a future of famine and poverty.” Ziven had begun pacing behind his chair and even the Legates on either of his sides looked somewhat nervous. Emrys had to admit that this was the most agitated she’d seen Ziven in a while. She considered rethinking an approach – perhaps she needed to mollify him. There was, after all, a small but loud part of her that worried about what could happen if Ziven, or any of his men, truly snapped in this room. Would she survive it?

But when she considered again what was at stake, recalling the detailed report from a Federation mole on Terok Nor, describing the truly hideous brutality there, she suddenly had no desire to offer Ziven anything.

Straightening her back in her chair, Emrys interjected. “While I would hardly consider Cardassia’s forced occupation of other planets to be uniting them with your Union,” she responded sharply, and Ziven turned on his heel to face her, his expression murderous, “I was indeed listening to your shared concerns.”

Emrys rose, hating the feeling of being looked down on by the Gul-Tar. Clasping her hands behind her back so he would not see her fidgeting, she lifted her chin and continued. “As I stated earlier, the Federation is prepared to support the Cardassian Union in ensuring its people’s needs are being met. We are happy to assist with the provision of resources – perhaps our assistance will be useful as your Union determines how they might provide for themselves without enslaving others.”

Ziven had begun making his way around the table, but Emrys refused to show fear. “The Federation would be willing to assist in the formulation of additional treaties and trade agreements that would offer Cardassia access to materials that you are sorely missing.” As Ziven stalked menacingly around the remaining corner of the table, two of his own men rose and called out to him and Romar stood to tower stoically in front of Emrys. Emrys heard, rather than saw, Varsek and a few other Federation members rise from their chairs as Ziven encroached upon their space. The heavy press of apprehension seemed to slow everything in the room.

“I would advise against this course of action, Gul-Tar,” Romar warned calmly, his hands still clasped loosely before him. He was the picture of calm and for not the first time, Emrys wished she could appear as cool and collected as Romar.

Ziven stopped just short of Romar, the two men evenly matched in stature, although Emrys knew Romar was much stronger than Ziven. Not that that would matter if Ziven had a weapon, she chided herself. Sighing, Emrys stepped up beside Romar, gazing at Ziven’s furious countenance.

“We mean no offense, Gul-Tar,” she assured him patiently. “However, it would seem to us that the relinquishment of Terok Nor should be neither surprising nor debatable. If the Cardassian Union agrees to withdraw from Bajor, would it not also follow that they would need to release the Bajorans in residence on Terok Nor?”

Ziven glowered at her, his chestplate shifting rapidly with the rush of his breath. Emrys’ eyes flickered to his jaw working, as though grinding his teeth, her hands trembling behind her back.

A wad of spit shot from Ziven’s mouth, landing on the floor just before Emrys, the sound of it slapping the ground harsh in the quiet, cavernous room.

Before Emrys could even process what was occurring, Romar had stepped behind her to secure Varsek, who had taken an offended stride toward Ziven. Every Cardassian in the room stood uneasily, the screeching of their chair legs against the floor cacophonous in Emrys’ otherwise stunned mind. With Romar occupied with a pissed off Varsek, Ziven leaned close for a moment, a deadly look in his eye as he hissed, “Hear me well, siml’vrerUj. Cardassia will never relinquish Bajor.” With that, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, leaving a host of edgy Cardassians and Federation members in his wake.

Translations:

siml’vrerUj (seemul-vreh-roozh) - "filthy female"

#star trek #star trek tng #star trek the next generation #cardassians #glinn daro #glinn daro x oc #glinn daro x fem!oc #daro star trek #i love him your honor #i officially have cardassian brainrot #star trek fanfic #star trek fanfiction #st: tng

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golden-x-mage · 3 months ago

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Jay Update 🐇 ‼️

Hi everybody, it's me Jay! It's been a minute since I really posted anything here hasn't it? I have in fact had one friend say he thought I'd left tumblr all together, which considering this is my main online presence was more or less like finding out your he thought I'd died.

But no, I haven't left and I haven't died, I've just been getting my shit absolutely rocked relentlessly by the real world. I'll spare you the details cause frankly we'd be here all day but sufficed to say that 2024 has been a no-brakes rollercoaster of illness, travel, huge emotional bombshells good and bad, and external obligations, all of which have left me little time or energy to engage with my hobbies of streaming, making art, or posting. I don't want to make it sound like it's been all bad because some of the best things ever have happened to me this year, but I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been extremely hard overall.

BUT! I just got done with a week of holiday, which may not have been the intense R&R I probably could have used but has made me feel like an actual living social human being again, and I intend to ride that momentum as far as it will take me. I won't make any big promises about getting back to streaming or making art, because I know there'll be more nasty surprises in my future that will make me a liar if I do, but if nothing else I will do my best to get back to saying goodnight here. A silly little habit of mine but I miss doing it, and it feels like the dash is missing a little bit of timekeeping since I stopped.

Long in short is it's been a hard year, but I want to try and make the most of the rest of it because I miss making art and doing streams and sharing the stupid stuff that rolls through my brain with all of you.

I might have been knocked down hard, and I might get knocked down often, but I never stay down for long

Love & Peace ❤️✌️

#sorry for textposting

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aritsukemo · 4 months ago

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thank you so very much <3

I wonder how Astolfo feels about a s/o that is taller than him? ): (it's only like 3-4 inches. but still)

I love your work btw!

Astolfo with a s/o who's taller than him

Warnings: None.

A/N: A sudden fever has reduced me to lying in bed instead of going to school today. I know I literally just posted about not completing request, this sense of anxiety bubbling in me has caused me to look for literally any and everyway to come up and out of this writing slump I've been in lately.. I'm sorry this simple request took so long to complete! I also apologize for it being so short, but if it makes you feel better, I had a lot of fun writing for him! 😁 🙏

↪ I perceive Astolfo as someone who's insecure about almost everything, if not everything, about himself which could've possibly stemmed from his survivor's guilt. That said, one of his main insecurities would definitely be his height.

↪ So one could say that he's brought this onto himself. Dating you, I mean.

↪ Astolfo loves you dearly. You've put up with him through thick and thin, after all. That said, he can't help but envy you especially if you're both taller and stronger than him.

↪ Even if you're only a couple inches taller, that's enough of a reason for him to spiral into a sea of self-doubt and deprecation. Heck, I see him being self-conscious about his significant other being the same height as him.

↪ And if you're like six feet or higher? Oh yeah, he's definitely going to be more than a little caught up on comparisons..

↪ Little things get to him very easily. For example, Gano once made a comment about how he looked like a child whenever he stood next to you and now he actively avoids situations where he has to stand even a fraction near you in a public setting.

↪ There was another time during an expedition. The temperature had suddenly dropped and the ground had been painted by white snow. You offered your coat to your boyfriend since your customized uniform allowed you to stay warmer than everyone else, but he declined. As it grew colder, your offer arose more than once but he just wouldn't accept it and in the end, he got a real bad cold. ( You suspect that the reason behind his rejection was because your coat was bigger to accommodate for your size and he didn't want it on him because the contrast would've made him seem smaller than he already is )

↪ Arguments between you two have surfaced that were caused by your height difference. They're usually small, but there have been times where his anger got the best of him and he blew your little back and forth way out of proportion.

↪ On the brighter side, he isn't as reserved or angsty in private! Without eyes on him, he's involuntarily way more relaxed and you can get many things out of him like cuddles, pecks, hugs, and more!

↪ Making accommodations for him is a must! There's rarely ever a time during a cuddle sesh where you're the big spoon. He also won't let you kiss him or initiate any kind of affection that involves you bending down to his level. ( He'd much prefer you being in a position where he has to bend down to your level. That said, the rare times he kisses you are when your sat down and he's standing or when you two are cuddling )

↪ He's a real stickler so anything that makes him seem smaller is a no go between you two. Even something small like helping him up can get a negative reaction from him.

↪ Affirmations can go a long way with him! Astolfo is a sensitive being whether he admits it or not so complimenting him can ease his mind sometimes. Even something like "I like you the way you are," is enough if you spin it the right way! Be warned, though, that Astolfo has a tendency of taking things the wrong way! Saying something like "I think your height is cute," will have a very opposite effect on him than what you intended it to! Even if you mean well, certain things may and will be taken as teasing and he will react very negatively if he thinks you, his significant other, are teasing him.

↪ This may seem odd to some, but sticking up for him may cause him to lash out on you as well. Height aside, Astolfo will assume that you think he can't fight his own battles or that you feel the need to baby him which could lead to a dispute between you two. This doesn't mean he doesn't stick up for you, though! If anyone has anything to say about you while he's around, he will have more than a few words for that person no matter who they are. ( And don't let it be a retched vampire who made a comment because oh boy )

↪ Basically what I'm saying is that although your height can lead to many headaches with Astoflo, you're still his partner at the end of the day. Like I said before, he loves you a lot. You keep him grounded ( kind of like a safe haven ) and even if there are times where he's mocked or teased or his insecurities lead him to do things he isn't very proud of, that love for you won't change or diminish. Not over something silly like a height difference.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

#requested #the case study of vanitas #the case study of vanitas x reader #vnc #vnc x reader #vnc astolfo #astolfo granatum x reader #astolfo x reader #the case study of vanitas headcanons

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casualmonsterenjoyer · 2 years ago

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su cuy´gar

Summary: Cody still works for the Empire two years after Order 66 but one day he sees something from his watchtower he just can't believe. (This is just a little short reunion fic.)

Warnings: none? Canon-divergence and post Order 66 but that's it

I think I wrote this back in 2021 and already did upload it on ao3 but hey why not here too (you know, I finally sat down and got an account last month and I'm slowly getting comfy here)

Don't expect too much, especially when it comes to posting more... I'm working on other fanfics but keep getting sidetracked or start others...the usual.

Anyways, enjoy! (Feedback is appreciated)

It has been two years since the rise of the Empire, exactly two years since Utapau. And Cody never quite understood why he stayed. Why he stayed with this new regime.

He followed orders.

He always did.

Maybe that's why he stayed.

There was nothing for him outside the Empire. Though, he heard some of his brothers had joined together, got others out and promised safety, Cody just couldn't see that for himself. The one person he would have returned to was gone.

There has always been blood on Cody's hands. First, that of his brothers. Cody led them into their death time and time again. Then, it was the blood of his general. Now, it's the blood of innocent.

He's so far gone from the clone he used to be and there is no way back.

He can't even try, stuck in a wasteland, an excuse of a planet under imperial control. There is nothing. Nobody.

So, Cody's initial reaction to double check the image currently being projected to him via holo is understandable.

It simply could not be.

The clone runs down the stairs of the watchtower he is stationed in, abandoning his post.

At foot of the tower he could now see the figure approaching without any gear and yanks off his bucket - probably the fastest he has ever done it - and yet he sill can't believe what he is seeing.

No matter if it was or simply his mind stabbing him in the back one final time. Seeing Obi-wan Kenobi is like seeing the sun again after a cold and terrifying night, seemingly endless and without escape.

A two year long night it has been.

His programming practically screams at Cody, telling him to do what apparently he didn't on Utapau, to follow through with the order like a good soldier and he would be lying if he said it wasn't hard, resisting the urge grab his blasters and start mindlessly shooting the jedi.

But this isn't just any jedi. This man, currently breaking into a sprint towards him, is the general.

It is his general.

Cody won't do the same mistake twice, he should have said kriff the programming back then, he definitely is saying it now. Over and over again in his mind while closing the distance between himself and the one he thought dead.

Cody blamed himself for everything that had happened daily, going numb and blank by the rotation till all that was left of the commander was the programming only.

Whatever Cody forcefully sacrificed that day on Utapau comes flooding back, for a second overwhelming the clone with regret, self-hatred and...love, adoration.

Slowing his steps Cody looks from his dark boots up to meet the jedi's face, unreadable. It makes him uncertain, scared to a degree.

"Cody...“, Obi-wan breathes out, standing so close, suddenly holding Cody's face in his callused, warm, living hands. Cody, in response, is quick to grab the jedi's wrists, he lingers but ultimately decides to pry them away - missing the warmth but believing it is better that way.

"I don't want to hurt you...general“, his voice is merely a whisper and the thought of actually hurting and loosing Obi-wan all over again breaks the clone.

Maybe Cody should have agreed to being send back into active duty, whatever that implied, then he would not have to deal with his own emotions, the raging fear of harming the only person he ever loved with such intensity.

Cody has committed atrocities yet Obi-wan, with his heart of pure gold, looks at him with a smile, his gorgeous eyes - tired, pleading - filled with nothing but fondness.

The jedi wiggles his hands free from Cody and moves to close the clone into a hug instead, one hand on his back the other gripping at the back of his head, sinking into Cody's dark curls.

Part of Cody still screams, part of Cody doesn't trust this to be real. Just another one of his nightmares for sure. He's gonna wake up in moment, alone.

But the moments pass and he's still here surrounded by warmth and the smell he has missed for so long. The smell of comfort. Of home.

"Darling“, he hugs the clone tighter and Cody finally regains control of his own limbs enough to cling to Obi-wan in return, “I have been searching for you for so long", Cody can hear the despair in Obi-wan's voice and once again curses himself for being the source of it, "hoping you were not under the countless who lost their life because, dear“, Obi-wan moves away a bit to really look at the clone, tears visible in both their eyes now, “I will not let them or yourself destroy you any further", funny how after everything the general still knew him so we'll.

"Cody...I found a place we can be safe, the two of us“.

And Cody, former commander of the 212th, battle hardened and bred to withstand almost everything, falls to his knees crying in front of the jedi, his jedi.

It feels good. He feels free.

Safe.

Yes, he will keep them safe.

Kriff the programming, it is long due time to make his own decisions.

"I would love to follow you there“.

#star wars #the clone wars #codywan #fanfiction #commander cody #obi wan kenobi

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yolowritter · 11 months ago

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Volpibug AU (better title pending)

So, it's this time of the month again, for me to drop a post in the tumblr void and then vanish again until next called upon! But! This one...this one is good! Like, "I'd need > 50k words of worldbuilding to write this" kind of good!

Quick story time: I recently wrote a Lilanette ficlet based on an ask I saw here on Tumblr. I won't get into the hows and whys, it's on my Ao3 acc (I have the same username). Anyway so while I was writing it, I added the line "and with her (Lila) necklace being all too magical" as a little easter egg, to say that she actually has the Fox Miraculous in this AU. Then...then my brain Did A Thing™. So it's a full AU now. Here's the context! Or at least...part 1, meaning the pre-story setup and up to the "Volpina" episode itself. I'll do a part 2 of this post to talk about the Lilanette lovesquare, because it keeps me up at night and I will share that with all of you very soon! Since Tomas Astruc has so gracefully and respectfully decided to actively depict 1940s Paris in S5, I am shamelessly using that mistake to make something I think is cool! So, while Fu and Marianne were in Paris, there was someone who helped them hide. A young woman from Italy, whose family had moved to France so her father could avoid the draft. The three become friends in the short time they know eachother, and she happens to learn that Fu is carrying a box full of magical little creatures with him. Therefore, she understands they need to escape, and promptly decides to try and sneak them out of Paris. But...we get to the scene where Fu and Marianne are being chased (the one from Evolution), only she's with them, and they're losing ground. So she begs Fu to let her take the Fox Miraculous and distract the soldiers while they run away, promising to come find them once it was safe. And so, with little time left to spare, Fu makes the gamble and passes Trix to her. She then tranforms and promptly makes an illusion to let him and Marianne get away before also going to hide. For the remainder of the War, she stays in France and devotes her time to help whoever she can escape, through conjuring minor illusions and such. She ends up being an unsung hero, and some years later she and her family move back to their old home in Italy. So...you're probably asking me what in the name of Gabriel Agreste's secret butterfly room does this have to do with Lilanette? Well, said woman (who I've yet to think of a good name for) is actually Lila's grandmother! I know, huge shock! Her superhero name? Why, Volpina of course! When Fu and Marianne return to Paris to come find her, she's unfortunately long gone. Therefore, we have 3 missing Miraculous. The Peacock, Butterfly, and the Fox. They stay in Paris (and yes this time they didn't split up, because I want to make Marianne happy okay?) like in canon, deciding to protect the remaining Kwami rather than go around the world searching for a woman they can't find. Conclusion, Trixx stays with Lila's family. Now, our beloved liar's grandmother has a daughter, who marries a man and also has a daughter, Lila. Listen, I do not want to open the can of worms of "Lila has at least 3 moms actually" because as cracky as it is...just no...not until they explain it clearly. Anyway her mom's marriage falls through, and through this time Lila stays with her grandmother, where she happens upon an old necklace she's held onto all this time. Cue Trixx showing up again, and Lila's grandmother explaining what a Miraculous is, and telling her the stories of her and the Fox Kwami's adventures. I'd assume this happens pretty much right before Lila comes to Paris, for a few reasons I'll explain in a bit. Anyway, Grandma Rossi gives Lila a crash course on how the Miraculous works, and swears her to secrecy, since nobody can know about Trixx, before passing the necklace to her when it's for her and Madame Rossi to come to Paris. The conclusion?

Lila isn't lying in the "Volpina" episode. She really is the descendant of a superheroine, and very proud about it because she loves her grandmother! It's also worth mentioning that because I genuinely hate how 2-dimensional they've made her in canon, this version of Lila is an actual character with positive and negative influences in her life. She still barely sees her mother and craves being the center of attention, but above all, through her grandmother's stories she got to see her friendship with Trixx, and is obsessed with the idea of having such a genuine connection with another person. So, she's not a manipulative psycho who's in it for the fame and glory, rather she just wants people to like her and hates being ignored or brushed aside, as her mother so often is forced to do because of her busy schedule. Lila may not be the most empathetic, kind or gentle soul around, but she's not sadistic or heartless like in the show. Now, when she transfers to her new school she's eager to make friends, so naturally she uses her cunning to quickly get people to bring up their interests and then spins stories of her relating to those things. For example, Juleka really likes Jagged Stone's music? Why, Lila has had a front-row seat to one of his concerts and absolutely loved it! She "knows a guy who knows a guy" who might be able to get them tickets if he ever comes to Paris, and hey, they should totaly go together sometime! Stuff like that, to become popular. She goes about her day telling the same lies she did in "Volpina" (Alya mentions a few at the beginning). Cue Adrien Agreste, locally famous teenage model, coming in with a book that has superheroes all over it. Lila is very interested in making friends with him, for obvious reasons.

When Ladybug shows up to scold her for lying about being a superhero, Lila barely holds back from transforming then and there, only because her grandmother had made her promise to not reveal the Miraculous to anyone. Unfortunately...that only gets her as far as being out of view before deciding to go for it anyway, despite Trixx protesting. Same exact thing with the fake meteor shower happens, and Hawkmoth is very curious as to what exactly is happening. Gabriel, being Gabriel, decides to wait and see what's going on. Ladybug and Chat show up, and she immediatelly accuses Lila of being an Akuma. Lila of course has absolutely no idea what those are because it is her first day here, but the more Ladybug scolds her the more she realizes that it's nothing good. Chat steps in as he did in the episode, defending her because Marinette is not being very logical right now. Long story short, Volpina asks about what exactly has been going on in Paris, and they give her the rundown on what Akuma are and who Hawkmoth is. Understanding this, Lila thinks to herself that Trixx...had a point. She probably shouldn't have exposed herself like this, and needs to find a way to get out of this situation. How does she do this? Oh, by pretending to be Akumatized of course! She conjures an illusion of Hawkmoth and then jumps Ladybug (mostly because she's mad at her for embarrassing her earlier) and then loses on purpose, "accidentally" falling off a ledge as she detransforms. Thankfully she's fine, and promptly thanks the heroes for saving her. Ladybug agrees to be "friends" with her, and is more focused on the personal situation than the lack of evil magical butterfly. I'm sure that won't affect the story in any major way. If you couldn't tell, I'm being sarcastic! Chat takes Lila back to school and tries to comfort her by saying she's kinda cool, and Lila lies to Adrien when he "happens to walk by her", telling him that she really wasn't ever a hero. Eventually, Marinette comes back to school just as Adrien is agreeing to be Lila's friend, and promptly decides that it's better to keep her "rival" close, telling Adrien that she's also his friend. Of course, he's overjoyed at having made two whole friends today (Nino is fondly shaking his head in the background), and that's the end of "Volpina". For those curious, yes the Grimoire still goes to Fu because that scene doesn't change. The only different thing is that both Fu and Gabriel suspect the real Fox Holder to be in Paris, but only Fu knows that this Miraculous has been missing since Nooroo and Duusu just...wouldn't know that. Tbh, I really want to write this AU sometime soon, but I'd also like to hear your thoughts on it! I know this post is mostly just a huge backstory rant, the real good stuff comes in part 2! Anyway, time for me to disappear yet again, but I'll be back soon with more!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi #lilanette #fic ideas #fic prompt #3am thoughts #i kid you not this Au kept me up at night #just writer things #send help #my wips #no chance I'm writing this anytime soon #not a one #but here it is #for your entertainment #trust me part 2 is all the Lilanette fluff you could ever ask for!#anyway goodnight #volpibug au

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sueske · 2 years ago

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Imma try to keep this short, but I'm reading a good post war team Taka fanfic and basically when the members of the team unnoticeably break Sasuke's imprisonment, they spend their days running, lying low in small countries and gathering resources to fulfill their plan on forever escaping by setting homeland across the seas far far away (basically another continent) and living the rest of their new lives peacefully free: taking back what was long stolen from them. Sometime during this, Suigetsu develops this thought of having a group baby and ideals SK reproduce to give new beginnings to their fallen clans. Fast-forward a few years: Sarada exists, plan gets put on hold, Team 7 (whose been searching for Sasuke) finds an alone and ill Sarada and shockingly discovers she's Sasuke's daughter, baits Sasuke into working for Konoha and was temporary forced to leave Sarada behind in Team 7's care. (I'm still reading it)

It has me questioning how different everything could've turned out if it had gone this route or anything similar. And how corrupt do you think Konoha is as a whole and do you think Team 7 is just as? Cause I'm still salty as hell Sasuke was the only one who got that level of punishment in that cell and disregarded everything and seemed to give Konoha forgiveness without holding them accountable.

there's so much to unpack here... anon I'm not sure if u take some of the events and characterisation in that fic as canon cuz that's not the case...

break Sasuke's imprisonment,

first of all, sasuke being imprisoned is anime only, that didn't happen in the manga so that's not canon.

they spend their days running, lying low in small countries and gathering resources to fulfill their plan on forever escaping by setting homeland across the seas far far away (basically another continent) and living the rest of their new lives peacefully free: taking back what was long stolen from them.

what about sasuke's goal for change? why would he run away from that? just because he accepted naruto's more cooperative approach by vote2, it doesn't mean that sasuke gave up on his plan, but just the way that plan would be enacted. and even with a more 'cooperative' approach, it won't be as simple and peaceful as u might think. it won't be as 'easy' to apply what sns did in their situation to the wider world around them, smth sasuke said in 699.

Sometime during this, Suigetsu develops this thought of having a group baby and ideals SK reproduce to give new beginnings to their fallen clans.

what. i personally don't view sasuke as wanting to have kids, in the manga restoring the Uchiha Clan was not about repopulation but about the clan's honour... could sasuke change his mind down the road? yes. but the circumstances and reasoning leading up to that needs to be believably done and in character.

Fast-forward a few years: Sarada exists, plan gets put on hold, Team 7 (whose been searching for Sasuke) finds an alone and ill Sarada and shockingly discovers she's Sasuke's daughter, baits Sasuke into working for Konoha and was temporary forced to leave Sarada behind in Team 7's care. (I'm still reading it)

uhm... anon. do u not know naruto? as if he would do that to sasuke. at the end of the kage summit arc to the end, Naruto stopped chasing sasuke and waited for sasuke to come to him. at 699, sasuke left and naruto didn't try and stop him. do you think, after everything sasuke went through, that naruto would take sarada hostage and blackmail sasuke and force him to work with konoha???? when naruto put sasuke above konoha???????........ this is so strange.

And how corrupt do you think Konoha is as a whole and do you think Team 7 is just as?

konoha is corrupt. a lot of their corruption is kept secret though. the thing with team 7 is that it's objectively the worst team. it's because sns are the 'main act' while kakashi and sakura are just.... there... while sns are in their own world or while they're doing their own thing. kakashi and sakura also fail to understand sns most of the time, most noticeably sasuke. kakashi follows Konoha's orders no matter what. sakura is just all about sasuke in the worst ways but still follows Konoha's orders. naruto was willing to defy Konoha's orders for sasuke. so make of that what u will.

Sasuke was the only one who got that level of punishment in that cell and disregarded everything and seemed to give Konoha forgiveness without holding them accountable.

again, sasuke's imprisonment was not canon. but yeah, the ending sucks, no one knows the truth. sasuke said he'd take on itachi's wishes as his own - as in, he wouldn't tell people what happened - but what about all the other victims that were silenced? I think everyone should know the truth. ppl learn from their past mistakes. ppl need to learn the price of their peace. there are other things that suck about the ending too.

It has me questioning how different everything could've turned out if it had gone this route or anything similar.

don't get me wrong ppl can do what they want in fic, but all in all not sure why you'd want the story to go down this route considering characters are retconned and the premise of the story is based on non-canon events? you do you though lol.

#anon #ask

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psychologeek · 2 years ago

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Bleeding Memories

Today is Yom Ha'Shoah (Holocaust Day).

And I wrote something (tw: holocaust. Mention of dead ppl *including kids* , and their memory.)

You're five years old, and your Ballet-class dance to a voice singing: "wait until you grow up, you were often told/A tall man and a short woman/ If you won't eat, you'll never grow up/Good boy leave an empty dish" (It would take years before you fully understand that). You are seven, and your mom won't let you read That Book. (You take it when she isn't home, read about death and darkness and hope). You read a lot during the next years. (It's written in your DNA). There's a siren and you think about People turn to numbers Numbers turn to bodies Bodies turn to ashes (to ashes). (You never really cry). It doesn't matter that your family already been here when it happened (In the book of people in your family, keeping records of ten generations, there are chapters thin as paper, summarised: "Fruma, 1940-1943, Auschwitz" ; "David, 1915-?, Trablinka" ; "unknown, 3 daughters of-" (Do you know their names? Do you remember?)

My great-grandmother To her dieing day, Never believed her sister is dead "She was an award-winning swimmer!", She claimed. (Or so they said) What difference can that make With two children? It's a familiar story: overcrowded ship meets a direct bomb. Old, laconic papers filled with names, ages, a description, maybe- (Don't forget) "Victiom's first name (also nickname): Adele. ||Approx. age at death: 5|| Relationship to the victim (family/other): Other (you fill the papers for your family and friends. You fill it for the people you know knew. You fill it for the woman who laid next to you in the cold cabin, who cried as she told you about her daughter. You fill one for the daughter, too, even if all you can put is "Girl, daughter of Esther, approx. age at death: 4, Dachao". "I had a cousin, she had 5 children. I can't remember the names" "Name: Her Father's name was David? Or Dov?" "There was a family. I don't remember their names. But they lived in the apartment next to mine when-" (Remember) In 2017 my parents spent a vication in Slovakia. The Airbnb owner was excited to hear they are jews, and had planty of helpful advices: "Oh, you're Jewish? So, you're probably going to visit Auschwitz?" When I was in 11th grade, I didn't go to the Poland Journey. My mother did go. There are prime locations you must see- The children's forest, in Tarnow. (700 Jews returned, after- Or tried. They were harassed away. No one left now. It's 100 less then the amount of kids' skeletons, laying in the woods). 2023, a Tumblr post says "I support Jews, this is a safe place" get the following replies: "Heil Hitler" "Seig Heil" "No thank I no like jews" "The first holocaust happened in Africa. What happened to Jews was just why white on white violence. Who cares" ... They are right. Who cares?

It's about the need to feel safe - but can you? It's about a blood stained history, where we can't even count or name all the times our people were butchered and slaughtered. (And we've just been through Passover) It's about a long list of names and dates and deaths. (Not even mention my personal list of names and faces. Just to name a few: Shalhevet, Hadas, Efrat, Eyal, Gilad, Naftali-) It's about generational trauma, written in our DNA (Hide. Run. Live). It's about 1943 Jewish in (not yet) Israel making plans what to do if (when) Rommel will arrive [where will you run?], It's the 1950-60s and european being called weak, and "why didn't you fight?" ( Why did you go like lamb to the slaughter?). It's the 60-70s, and North-African being told "you're lying" when talking about concentration camps and forced workers in Libya, Tunisia, Algeria ("But my MOTHER was there!") It's about everyone we forgot - because everyone who ever knew them is gone. (It's about the remains: One-from-town, two-from-family, a cinder saved from the fire). It's about remembering, Remember and never forget. Who cares? (I do)

#yom hashoah #holocaust #holocaust mention #holocoust #actually jewish #jewish community #jews #remember #remember and never forget #יום השואה #yizkor #poems and poetry #poem #writing #holocaust memorial Day #my writing

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cutedisneygirl · 2 years ago

Text

Love online

Chapter 4

Sorry it has taken me so long to post this. I will get next chapter up soon.

Warning: There are not many, just a little language in this chapter.

The next few days go by slow. Merida and Chris continue to talk through texts on Instagram. Tiffany still won't believe that it is Chris Evans and keeps telling Merida to be careful. Thursday during nap time Merida posts a picture on Instagram.

Disneydoggrl83❤️ I miss my girl! So much!

Captaindork-liked

liked

Captaindork- Hey! I just saw your post. Those are good pics. I wish there was something I could say or do to help you through this.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Thanks. I will be okay. Its just still hard. It's hard going home knowing she won't be there. I also hate going to sleep at night and not having her beside me.

Captaindork-I know exactly how you feel. Its hard when I am gone for work and I don't have Dodger beside me. Maybe this pic will help.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️That's funny :) and true for us.

Captaindork-Yep. So you have plans this weekend?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Tiffany is coming over and we are having a girls weekend. She is taking me somewhere tomorrow night.

Captaindork-That sounds fun.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yeah. I don't know what she has planned. With Tiffany who knows. Hope she doesn't embarrass me.

Captaindork-how could she embarrass you?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️well tomorrow is my birthday and I know she will tell the waitress or waiter.

Captaindork-Oh! Well maybe she won't embarrass you. ☺️

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yeah. Well I need to get going. It's time to get my kids up.

Captaindork-Okay. Have fun. Talk to you later.

Merida got her kids up from nap and changed their diapers, gave them snack and played with them in centers for a little while till they went outside. That evening when Merida got home she was tired. She changed into her pjs and after fixing her self a salad she sat on the couch and watched Avengers Endgame. While she was watching she looked at Instagram.

Dodger lying on Dodger

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️liked

Awww ☺️

Captaindork-Hey! How was work today?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️It was good. I'm tired. My kids wore me out.

Captaindork-Aww well at least tomorrow is Friday!

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Yes. I am glad. I am ready for the weekend.

Captaindork-What time is Tiffany coming over?

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️She said she was picking me up at 6

Captaindork- :) I'm sure you girls will have fun.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️As long as she doesn't embarrass me!

Captaindork-maybe she won't. Well hate to cut this short, but I need to get to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. I probably wont' be able to message you until later in the day. I will be on set all day!

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Okay. I understand. Hope you have a great day!

Captaindork-Thanks. You too. ☺️

Merida finished her movie then cleaned up her dishes and after she brushed her teeth, took her contacts out and washed her face then climbed into bed. She had another wonderful dream about Chris. When her alarm whet off the next morning she groaned. She rolled over and saw she had a message.

Captaindork-Good morning Merida! Happy Birthday! Hope you have a wonderful day! Have fun tonight!

Awww, Chris is so sweet. Merida thinks to herself. She saw he had sent it at 4:30 am.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Thanks! I love the picture. I will let you know how it goes ☺️

Merida got up and got ready for her day. She got a quick shower, changed and then got herself a bowl of cereal and some coffee. After she finished she quickly washed her dishes and brushed her teeth then left for work. When she got to work she saw someone had decorated her door.

Merida smiled and walked into her classroom. She started her day. She changed diapers and played with her kids in centers. They painted, built towers and read books. The day seemed to drag. At nap time one of her coworkers brought her a piece of cake they had made. She sat and ate her cake and scrolled through Instagram. She didn't see anything from Chris. She remembered him telling her he would busy on set all day. She didn't hear from him at all. She missed talking to him during nap time. When the end of the day came, she cleaned her room and headed home. She got a quick shower and got dressed. She decided to dress up a little.

The star necklace was a gift from her father for her last birthday. By the time she finished applying her make up, she was changing her purse when she heard the knock on the door.

"Hey girl!"

"Hey! You like nice. I love that dress! I don't think I have ever seen you wear that before."

"Yeah I got it a while back but never wore it."

"It looks good on you. Are you ready to go."

"Yep. Let me just grab my purse. I was in the process of changing purses when you knocked on the door."

Merida left the room and was back a few minutes carrying her purse.

"Alright lets go."

The girls headed to Tiffany's blue camero. As Tiffany was pulling out Merida says, "Oh Chris messaged me this morning and wished me happy birthday. He sent me the cutest picture."

Merida shows Tiffany. Tiffany glanced at it then back to the road.

"Is it all the Disney characters?"

"Yep. Most of them."

"That's cute. Are you still thinking it's really him?"

Merida didn't answer.

"Merida, I'm telling you. It's a scammer. They are telling you its them, but they are fooling you. They are good! They know what they are doing. Please don't let them get to you. Don't believe everything they tell you alright?"

Merida didn't say anything back she just nodded her head. It was quiet the rest of the way to the restaurant. Merida didn't know where Tiffany was taking her. When Tiffany pulled into Olive Garden Merida got excited. Olive Garden was her favorite restaurant.

"Tiffany! Olive Garden! Really?"

"Yep. I know its your favorite."

The girls get out and head in. It is a little crowded. Tiffany goes up the podium and tells the lady how many.

"It will be about 15 minutes." She hands Tiffany a buzzer.

The girls sit down and wait.

"Merida."

"What?"

"You know I love you right?"

"Yeah I know."

"I am only looking out for you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know."

"I..."

Before Tiffany can finish what she was going to say the buzzer goes off.

"Looks like our table is ready," Merida says. Glad the conversation was over. She didn't want to argue with Tiffany and she knew that, that was what was going to happen.

The girls followed the lady to their table.

"Your waitress will be right with you. Enjoy."

The girls start looking at their menu. Merida knows she wants to order peach tea. She doesn't have tea often, but she always orders it when she comes to Olive Garden. Its her favorite.

"Get whatever you want. This is on me."

"Thanks."

A waiter comes to the table.

"I'm Ryan and I will be your waiter this evening. What I start you ladies off with to drink?"

Tiffany looks at Merida. "I'll have peach tea."

"Good choice. And you miss?" he says looking at Tiffany.

"I'll have just regular sweet tea."

"Alright. Any appetizers?"

"No thank you." Tiffany says.

"Alright. I will be back shortly with your drinks."

Ryan left and the girls were alone.

"So has Chris posted anything on Instagram recently?"

"No. He's been busy filming all day."

"Is that what Captaindork told you?" She said giving her a raised eyebrow

"Yes that is what he said."

"Mmm, well I'm sure he is busy. He is still working on his new movie. Which I do want to see by the way."

"I'm still trying to decide if I want to see it. It's not really mind of movie. It looks rough."

"But its got Chris Evans. I told you we can go and just drool over him."

Merida laughs. "Right. I'll think about it."

Ryan comes back with their drinks.

"A peach tea for you," he says setting it down in front of Merida.

"And a regular sweet tea for you," he says setting it down in front of Tiffany.

"Have you ladies decided what you want to order?"

"Yes, I want to the Chicken Alfrado."

"Do you want that grilled chicken?"

"Yes please."

"Salad or soup?"

"Salad."

"And you miss?" he asks looking at Tiffany.

"I want the 5 cheese ziti al forno."

"Would you like soup or salad?"

"Salad."

"Alright. I will have your salad and bread sticks out to you soon."

Ryan left and the girls were alone once again. Just as Tiffany was fixing to speak Merida's phone went off. She pulled it out of her purse and looked.

Captaindork- ☺️hope your bday dinner is going well. And your welcome for the pic. I saw it and had to send it you. Hopefully Tiffany hasn't embarrassed you.

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Not yet. But the night is still young ☺️ We are at Olive Garden

Captaindork-Nice! Great place! I'll let you enjoy your dinner. Talk to you later ☺️

Disneydoggrl83 ❤️Okay! And yes its my favorite restaurant. Talk to you later. I will let you know how it turns out. ☺️

Captaindork- ☺️👍

"Who are you talking to? Him?"

"Yes. He was saying he hoped my dinner was going well."

"Oh, so you told him where you were going?"

"Well this morning, I didn't know. But I just now told him where I was."

"So he knows your not home!"

"What? Well ya."

"Merida! Never, ever tell a stranger your not home!"

"Tiffany, relax. He doesn't know where I live or anything. We have never gotten that pacific."

"Good! Don't!"

"Geez, you think I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid!"

"I never said you were stupid. Naive at times maybe but not stupid!"

Merida didn't say anything back. Ryan returned with their bread sticks and Salad.

"Would you like cheese on your salad?"

"Yes."

Ryan spread cheese on the salad then put it on the table.

"Your food will be out shortly."

Merida put salad in her bowl and after Tiffany got hers, Tiffany said a prayer thanking them for the food. Merida remained quiet and ate her salad.

"Merida, I'm sorry."

"Tiff, its okay."

"I know your mad at me. I know how much you want to believe its him. But it's not. Actors don't message fans."

"Tiff, I said I'm fine. It's okay. I know your looking out for me. It's okay."

"Alright. As long as we are cool and your not mad at me. I can't have my bff mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Merida smiled.

"Good."

The girls finished their salad and talked a little about their day. Merida told her what her coworkers did for her at work and about her kids. Then Ryan returned with their food. He put cheese on both their bowls.

"Enjoy!"

Ryan leaves and the girls dig in.

"This looks so good!" Tiffany says.

"Yes, its been so long since I have had this."

The girls eat and when Ryan comes back to check on them Tiffany says

"It's her birthday."

"Oh it is! Well Happy Birthday! I will bring you a dessert in a few," Ryan says looking at Merida and smiling then leaves.

"Tiffany!"

"Hey, you get a free dessert!"

"Yeah but now they are going to sing to me!"

"So, you get a dessert!"

By the time the girls finish their meal Ryan is back with the rest of the staff and they sing happy birthday to Merida. The rest of the staff leave. Ryan sets the brownie and ice cream down in front of Merida.

"Happy Birthday! Enjoy," He smiles

"Can I get you anything?" He asks looking at Tiffany.

"No thanks."

"Alright. Well enjoy. I'll be back with the check." He smiles once again, then leaves.

Merida looks up and sees Tiffany smiling at her.

"What?"

"That waiter was flirting with you."

"He was not!"

"He was!"

Merida takes a bite of her brownie. "Would you like a bite? Its good."

"Sure." Tiffany takes a bite. They end up sharing the dessert. Ryan comes back.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Nope, I think we are good thanks." Tiffany says.

"Alright. Well here is your check. Just let me know when your ready. You girls have a goodnight," He smiles again looking at Merida then walks off.

"Girl! He is so into you!"

"He is not!"

Tiffany opens up the black book where the check is.

"OMG!"

"What! What's wrong?"

"Look at the bottom of the recit."

Tiffany shows Merida the check and at the bottom is says.

Have a goodnight ladies. And to the birthday girl! Hope you have a wonderful night. Your beautiful! Call me 828-253-9701

"OMG! He gave me his number!"

"I told you he was into you."

"Well I'm not calling him."

"Why not?"

"Tiffany!"

"What?"

Tiffany pulls out her wallet and takes $50.00.

"Your leaving him all that! How much was the bill?"

"He was a good waiter!"

The girls stand up. Merida grabs her purse and they head out. As they leave they see Ryan behind the reister and he smiles at them and waves. They get to the car.

"I think you should call him."

"No! I am not calling a guy I met at a restaurant!"

"But you will talk to someone you met online!"

Merida glares at Tiffany then looks away out the window and keeps quiet.

As Tiffany pulls out of the parking lot she says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was mean. Forgive me."

"Sure."

Tiffany arrives at Merida's house and after Merida unlocks her door the girls head inside.

"Why don't we go ahead and get into our pjs and watch Disney movies?"

"Okay."

The girls change into their pjs. Merida pops some pop corn while Tiffany finds a movie.

"Why don't we watch Robin Hood first."

"Sounds good." Merida says carrying the bowl of popcorn.

Just as the movie starts Merida hears her phone. She looks down and sees it's a video call from Captaindork

"OMG!"

"What?"

"Chris is video calling me. The last time he did it, he said it was an accident."

"Answer it. I want to see him for myself."

Merida hits accept.

"Hey!"

"Shit! I did it again. I'm sorry."

Merida laughs. "It's okay. I wondered if you did it on purpose this time."

"No, I was fixing to message you and I hit the video by mistake. I am not use to using Instagram this way."

"It's okay. Tiffany is right beside me just so you know." Merida says turning the screen a little so Chris can see her.

"Hey Tiffany. So you're the friend I have heard so much about."

"That would be me."

"So how was dinner? Did Tiffany embarrass you?"

"Yes! She told the waiter it was my birthday and then he and the rest of the staff sang to me."

"But she got free dessert and the waiter has a crush on her."

"Oh is that so?"

"Tiffany!" Merida said elbowing her.

"Yes, he wrote his number for her at the bottom of reciet."

"Oh did he now?"

"Tiffany hush!" Merida said elbowing her again.

Chris laughs.

"So are you calling him?"

"No!"

"Why not? Sounds like he might like you."

"I'm not calling him."

"Sounds like I have some competition." Chris smiles.

Merida just smiled. She didn't know what to say. Tiffany just shook her head.

"So what are you girls up to?"

"Well we are fixing to watch Robin Hood and eat some popcorn."

"Sounds fun. I'll let you watch your movie. Have fun. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight Merida."

"Goodnight Chris."

Chris ends the call. Merida looks over at Tiffany.

"Do you still think it wasn't him?"

"It certainly looked and sounded like him but I'm telling you they can fool you. They are good."

"Okay whatever, lets just watch the movie."

"I did sense a little bit of jealousy though when we told him about the waiter."

"What! No."

"Yes. He did say he had some competition."

"Well he doesn't have to worry. I'm not calling Ryan."

"Well maybe he will call you."

"What! How?"

"I might have written your number at the bottom of the receipt." Tiffany says smiling.

"You did not!"

Tiffany smiles and starts the movie. When the movie ends the girls decide to find something on tv. Merida sees the movie The Greatest Show Man on.

"Oh! I love that movie! Lets watch that! I know its your favorite!"

"No!"

"Why? I thought you loved that movie."

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

Tiffany is quiet for a minute.

"Tiff. What's wrong? Tell me."

"I don't like Zac Efron anymore."

"Why not? You use to love him."

"Used to!"

"What happened?"

Tiffany is quiet again for several minutes. She takes a deep breath then says, "I was scammed by someone pretending to be him."

"What! When?"

"A year ago."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I was embarrassed. That's why I have been so hard you. The same thing happened to me that is happing to you. He messged me and made me think it was him. He video called me and it looked just like him, sounded just like him, but it wasn't him."

"How did you find out it wasn't?"

"Well at first I didn't think anything about it when he told me to send money to meet him. Said he would help me with what he could, but that I had to send a little."

"You didn't!"

"I did!"

"What happened next?"

"Well he kept on asking for money!"

"You didn't give him more did you?"

"I told him I couldn't send anymore."

"Then what happened?"

"He kept on asking. Saying he really wanted to meet him and that it was the only way for me to meet him. That he wished he could just come to NC to see me but he couldn't."

"What did you do?"

"I told him I wouldn't send anymore money. Then a few days later his profile on Instagram was gone and then there was a message from Zac Efron on his page about being aware of scammers pretending to be him. That he has not messaged any fans."

"OMG! Girl I'm sorry. Wish you had told me."

"Yeah. So now you understand why I am so hard on you."

"Yes I do."

"So be careful alright."

"I will, but Chris has not asked for any personal info or money."

"Yet! Zac didn't at first. We talked for a month before he started asking for it."

"Oh. Well thanks for telling me."

"Your welcome. I care about you girl and want the best for you."

"I know you do. Thanks."

"Oh and by the way. I do have a gift for you, but I left it at home. I couldn't bring it with me. I didn't want to leave it in the car while we went to eat. I will get it tomorrow."

"Oh okay. Well you didn't have to get me anything. The dinner was enough."

Tiffany smiled. "So what do we watch? Oh how about this?"

She asked clicking on The Last Song.

"Sure, I like that movie."

The girls watch the movie. The whole time Merida is thinking about what Tiffany told her. If all she said was true, which she knew it was, she knew Tiffany wouldn't lie to her, Chris could be fake. But Merida just knew in her heart that it was really Chris Evans she was talking to, but she knew she needed to be careful after what Tiffany told her.

#@cevansbaby-dove @katherineswritingsblog #if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

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